


Solitude Delivered

by KJaneway115



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s02e25 Resolutions, Episode: s07e11 Shattered, Episode: s07e25 Endgame (Star Trek: Voyager), Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJaneway115/pseuds/KJaneway115
Summary: After Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant, Janeway must expose a mysterious admiral who threatens those she loves and jeopardizes the future of all humanity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mizvoy for scrupulous editing, and to both her and Vestal Virgin for the moral support as I've worked on this story. For all of you, but especially my fellow VAMBies, here is this year's "lake story."

**Solitude Delivered**  
By KJaneway115

 

* * *

  
_“Friendship needs no words—it is solitude delivered from the anguish of loneliness.”_  
_-Dag Hammarskjold_

 

* * *

  
**PROLOGUE**

* * *

  
_"Then I guess I am alone, after all.”_   She had said it aloud only once, years before, on a day when it had seemed that everything was falling apart.  But the thought had been the underlying theme of her entire life.  _I am alone._

On the day she had walked home in the rain from a tennis tournament, twelve years old, burning with anger and shame at her loss, she had felt alone.  At eighteen, she’d gotten into a philosophical argument with one of her professors at the Academy and had found not only the professor but the entire class against her, and she had felt alone.  On her first Starfleet assignment, captured in a Cardassian prison, listening to the screams of then Captain Owen Paris as he was tortured, she had never felt as alone.  In the ice of Tau Ceti Prime, desperately trying to save her father and her first fiancé, she had been certain she had never been more alone.  On her first quiet night in the Delta Quadrant, when she’d finally had a moment to herself, she had sat on the sofa in her quarters, gazing out at the unfamiliar stars, seventy-thousand light-years from her second fiancé, from Starfleet, from her family, and she had known she was alone.  And on the day she had made the statement to her former first officer, she had realized that in spite of her hopes to the contrary, she was as alone as she had always been.

But now, as Kathryn Janeway stood on the dock overlooking Lake George, and breathed in the cool night air, she knew that all of those times before, she hadn’t truly been alone.  As a child, she’d been surrounded by a supportive family.  Justin had rescued her from that Cardassian prison.  After his death and the death of her father, she’d had her mother, her sister, and Mark.  On _Voyager_ , she’d had Tuvok, Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, Neelix, and the Doctor.  She’d had Chakotay.  

The Lake George night was quiet.  The water washed gently against the shore.  She looked up at the stars she loved twinkling against the black sky, and questioned whether she would ever again travel among them.  She wondered what course her life would take now.  The solitude that had been the theme of her life washed over her.  The long, lonely cry of a loon echoed across the still water, but no mate replied.  In that moment, Kathryn Janeway knew that all the times before had prepared her to face this moment when she was truly, utterly and completely alone.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

* * *

  **I.**

* * *

  
_ONE WEEK EARLIER_  
  
“Captain Janeway.”  The admiral was taller than Janeway, but thin, with a gaunt face and sunken eyes.  His blonde hair was greying, and his brown eyes darted around the transporter room before settling on her.  He stepped off the transporter pad and extended a bony hand.  “Admiral Vince Garrett, Starfleet Advanced Technologies Division.”

“Admiral Garrett, welcome aboard _Voyager_ ,” Janeway said.

“Thank you, Captain.  I believe Admiral Paris informed you of the purpose of my visit.”

Janeway nodded.  “I understand that you’re here to look at the ablative hull armor.”

“Yes, as well as the other modifications you’ve made.”

“Follow me, Admiral.”  Garrett followed her through the corridor, and she tried not to show her instinctive dislike of the man.  He was the latest in a long line of Starfleet brass that had poked, prodded, and surveyed her ship since they had returned home two weeks earlier.  Their first two weeks back in the Alpha Quadrant had consisted of nothing but debriefings and visits from admirals and analysts.

In spite of her annoyance, she felt that Starfleet’s overbearing need to survey and control their technology was a small price to pay for the freedom of her crew.  Despite both her and Chakotay’s fears, the former Maquis had been granted their field commissions, and all charges against them had been dropped.  Seven of Nine and Icheb were both free to pursue their lives on Earth.  The Doctor had been granted his independence and the rights of a Starfleet officer.  The debriefings were almost concluded, and it seemed that their homecoming would pass without incident.  Janeway sighed as she led Garrett into engineering and wondered why, when everything was going so smoothly, she still felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Ensign Vorik,” Janeway said as they entered engineering, “this is Admiral Garrett.”  The ship was running on a skeleton crew, as most of the crew, including most of the senior staff, had been dismissed after their debriefings had concluded.  They had all been granted a full month of leave.  Tuvok had gone straight to Vulcan to receive treatment for his illness, and Tom and B’Elanna were on maternity and paternity leave following the birth of their daughter.  Vorik had been left in charge of engineering.  “The admiral would like to take a look at our systems, Ensign,” Janeway continued.  “You’re to assist him with whatever he needs.”

“Understood.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Admiral?” she asked Garrett, who was already approaching an engineering station.

“After I’m done here, I’d like to see your astrometrics lab.  If you’ll be so good as to escort me there, Captain?”

“Of course.”  She turned to Vorik.  “Let me know when the admiral is done here, Ensign.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” said Garrett, looking up from the engineering station.  “Is your former Borg still aboard?”    

Janeway bristled.  “Seven of Nine is not my former Borg.  She is very much her own person, and she debarked yesterday.”

“A pity,” Garrett replied.  “I would so like to meet her.”

“Perhaps you’ll get the opportunity at a later date,” Janeway said, fighting to keep her tone pleasant.  “Ensign Vorik, I’ll be in my ready room.”

Vorik nodded, and Janeway left the Vulcan alone with the admiral.  _Poor Vorik_ , she thought ruefully.  She wouldn’t want to be alone with the man and his questions, especially not after the admiral’s disrespectful attitude towards Seven.  As she stepped into the turbolift, she sighed.  She hoped she would be able to spare Seven the pain of prejudicial attitudes, but she knew that unfortunately, some would always see Seven as Borg.

She stepped onto the bridge.  “Report, Ensign Kim.”

“Nothing to report, Captain,” Harry replied, standing up from the captain’s chair.

She was grateful that Harry had been part of the skeleton crew assigned to stay on _Voyager_.  “I suppose we should call that a welcome change, Ensign.”

“Yes, Captain.  It’s good to be home.”

She passed close to him.  “If one more of those admirals sets foot on my ship, I may go rogue and take Voyager back to the Delta Quadrant.”

Harry laughed.  “The admiralty doesn’t know who they’re dealing with when they’re up against Captain Janeway.”

She smiled and patted him on the shoulder.  “Thank you for that, Harry.  I needed it.  I’ll be in my ready room if you need me.”  She rolled her eyes.  “Or when Admiral Garrett demands my presence.”

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad, Captain,” Harry tried to console her.

“Just wait till you’re a captain, Harry.  You’ll see.”  She entered her ready room leaving a grinning Harry Kim behind her.

Rounding her desk, Kathryn flopped down into her chair, letting her face fall.  She felt it was crucial that she put up the best front she could in front of the crew.  And she was happy to be home, but the feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong persisted.  Was it Admiral Garrett’s casual comment about “her” former Borg?  Or just the constant flow of Starfleet brass invading what felt her personal territory?  Had she lost touch with her Starfleet roots so completely that she no longer felt comfortable in a chain of command?  Perhaps that was the root of her discomfort—the fear that while she had gotten her crew home, she would no longer fit in where she had once belonged.  Or, perhaps, it was something more personal.

With no pressing matters requiring her attention, she allowed her mind to drift over the events of the past few weeks.  She remained unsure what to make of her meeting with her future self.  Seeing what she had become in the admiral’s timeline had been a powerful motivator to bring _Voyager_ home early, as had Tuvok’s illness and everything else the admiral had told her.

The revelation of Chakotay’s relationship with Seven had shocked her, and it had taken her several days of deep contemplation to find in her heart what to say to him.  Her relationship with Chakotay had always been complex.  They had begun as enemies but become close friends, brought together by extraordinary circumstances and held together by shared values, a common purpose, and a deep mutual respect and affection.  For many years, there had been an unspoken attraction between them, tamped down only by parameters of position and circumstance.  While her instinctive reaction to the knowledge of Chakotay’s fledgling relationship with Seven had been anger and disappointment, long and hard reflection had led her to a deeper truth.  

She cared for Chakotay as much as she had ever cared for anyone.  And more than anything, she wanted him to be happy.  If a relationship with Seven was part of his happiness, as the admiral had seemed to suggest, she would not and could not stand in their way.  There had been a time when she had thought that their homecoming would mean that she and Chakotay would finally have the freedom to pursue the feelings that had been shared, unspoken, between them for so long.  But she had always known that day might never come.  If he now had a true chance at happiness with Seven, she could only wish them the best.  She knew that she would be fine.  

So, when Seven and Chakotay had beamed off _Voyager_ together, she had congratulated them.  She had hugged Seven warmly, and then taken both of Chakotay’s hands in hers.  “I wish you every happiness.”  And this was the truth.  

She missed Chakotay terribly, now, and wished he were beside her to sympathize with her frustrations with admirals and Starfleet brass.  She shook her head.  _At least you’re having more fun than I am_ , she thought, as if he could hear her.

“Vorik to Captain Janeway.”  The ensign’s comm signal snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Janeway here.”

“Admiral Garrett is on his way to astrometrics.  I told him he should wait for you, but he wouldn’t listen to me, Captain.”

“Thank you, Ensign.  Janeway out.”  Shaking off the melancholy of her thoughts, she stood and hurried out of the ready room.  She wanted to get to astrometrics before Garrett did any damage.  But when she arrived, she discovered that the damage had already been done.  Garrett was already at a computer terminal digging through classified files.

“Captain Janeway,” Garrett greeted her with a thin smile.  “Thank you for joining me.  Your Borg drone has done some incredible work here, integrating Borg technology with _Voyager_ ’s systems, not to mention the technology developed by the future Admiral Janeway.”

“As I told you before, Admiral, Seven is not a Borg drone, and she is certainly not mine.  As for the technology brought back by my future self, it has been placed in my care, but I am in no way responsible for its existence.”

“You misunderstand me, Captain.  I am complimenting your ingenuity, as well as that of Seven of Nine.  The integration of Borg technology into _Voyager_ ’s systems is admirable.”

“Yes,” Janeway agreed hesitantly.  “My people have done great work.”

“The Advanced Technologies Division will be confiscating all of these systems.”

“Confiscating?”

“They’ll be moved to a secure warehouse at Starfleet Headquarters where our scientists and engineers can study them further.”  Garrett smiled, an expression that seemed intended to be kind but that came across to her as one of pity.  “Your work here is done, Captain,” he continued in a patronizing tone.  “A Starfleet team will be beaming aboard to remove the technology from the future and the systems which have been enhanced by Borg technology.”

“Surely my staff is the most qualified for the task of dismantling those systems,” she said, distaste in her mouth at the thought of taking apart her beloved ship.

“Your staff won’t be necessary, Captain.  You’ve all been granted a month’s leave, remember?”

“But my people are more familiar with _Voyager_.  We know this technology.  We know how it’s integrated into the ship’s systems.”

“I appreciate the offer, Captain, but your assistance really won’t be necessary.”

“Admiral, with all due respect, your people might damage something without even knowing it.”

“My people are perfectly capable,” replied Garrett in a steely tone.

Janeway put her hands on her hips.  “Regardless of how capable they are, they don’t know _Voyager_ ’s systems like my crew does.”

“Captain, how can I make myself more clear?  You and your people won’t be needed.  We have teams of scientists and engineers who are trained to handle this type of situation.”

“No one is trained to handle Delta Quadrant technology,” she shot back.  “No one here at Starfleet Command has ever seen it before.”

“You and your people have a unique perspective, yes,” Garrett acknowledged, “but you don’t have to do everything anymore.  You may have forgotten that, Captain.”

Janeway glared at the admiral.  “And when you dismantle my ship?” she asked.  “Then what?”

“Captain Janeway,” said Garrett with a sickly sweet smile, “I don’t believe that is any of your concern.”  


* * *

  
“What does Starfleet plan to do with Admiral Janeway’s technology?” Janeway asked as she sat across the desk from Admiral Owen Paris the following morning.

“I know that research teams are being put together to study it,” Paris replied.

“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, do you know why none of my people are being permitted to assist him in this… dismantling?”

“I don’t know Admiral Garrett very well.  He hasn’t been assigned to San Francisco for very long.  But from what I’ve heard, he’s extremely particular about everything he does.”

Janeway grimaced.  “So am I.  Especially when it comes to my ship.”

“I’m sorry, Kathryn, but _Voyager_ isn’t yours anymore.  She belongs to Starfleet.”

“I know that.  It’s just that after so many years…”

“She feels like home,” said Paris with a smile.  “I understand, but unfortunately, my understanding doesn’t change your orders.”

“Do you know what Starfleet plans to do with the technology from _Voyager_?”

“I don’t.”

“Has Admiral Garrett filed a report indicating his plans?”

“Not that I have access to.  The Advanced Technologies Division refines and develops advanced technology.  _Voyager_ ’s upgraded systems certainly fall within that purview.”

“Does that satisfy you?” Janeway asked.

Paris grimaced.  “It’s not unusual for projects like this to be on a need-to-know basis.  I don’t need to know.  Neither do you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest.  “I have a responsibility to that technology.  Especially the Borg enhancements.  It’s here because of me.  If Starfleet plans to use it to create some kind of weapon…”

“You’d feel responsible.”

Janeway nodded.

“I know, Kathryn, because I know you,” said Paris gently.  “But you’re going to have to give up some control now that you’re back in the Alpha Quadrant.  You don’t need to be responsible for everything here.”  Janeway opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it.  Paris continued, “My advice is to step back.  Take the leave you’ve been granted.  Enjoy the time with your family.  In fact, Linda and I would love for you to join us for dinner tomorrow.  Tom and B’Elanna will be there with my granddaughter.”  Owen seemed to beam with pride at the mention of little Miral.

“Thank you for the invitation, sir,” Janeway replied, “but I’ll have to take a rain check.  I owe my mother a visit.  I haven’t seen her since the debriefings ended.”

“Good.  Give her our best regards.”

Janeway nodded as she stood to leave Paris’ office.  “I will, sir.”  She didn’t tell Paris that she had other plans for the next few days that didn’t involve taking any of his advice.  


* * *

  
Rather than going to see her mother as she had told Admiral Paris she would, Janeway spent the afternoon doing some research into Admiral Garrett.  According to his Starfleet personnel record, Admiral Vince Garrett had been born in New York City.  His father had been a politician who had served on the Federation Council, and his mother had been a scientist.  His Academy record was average at best, but it seemed that after he had graduated from the Academy, he had quickly risen through the ranks.  This told Janeway that his rise had been borne of a desire for power and influence rather than competence.  Her own father had taught her at a young age that there were two types of admirals—those like him or Admiral Paris, who had risen through the ranks, served in the field and joined the admiralty out of a desire to improve Starfleet, and those who simply wanted to be admirals out of a desire for power over others.  Over the course of her career, she had seen both types, and in every case, her father’s observations had proven true.  She had never liked the admirals like Garrett.

Garrett had flitted around to a few different departments before finally landing in the Advanced Technologies Division.  Early in his career as an admiral, he’d been assigned to a world on the Federation border, and he had not returned to San Francisco until after the Dominion War.  The records of Garrett’s activities during the war, however, were strangely absent from his Starfleet record.  She had not been lacking the clearance; the records simply weren’t there.  Further, no one in the admiralty seemed to know Garrett very well.  She’d spoken to Admiral Patterson, an old friend of her father’s, about Garrett, and he’d had the same reaction as Admiral Paris.

Something about the whole situation wasn’t sitting right with her.  She had a bad feeling about Garrett’s involvement with Voyager’s dismantling, and she had learned long ago to trust her instincts.  

The bad feeling that remained in her stomach had led her to a late night visit to Starfleet Headquarters.  She’d been hoping to use one of B’Elanna’s Maquis tricks to enter Garrett’s office undetected, go through his computer console, and see whether her fears about his motives were justified.  Instead, when she started to turn down the corridor that led to Garrett’s office, she heard voices.  Quickly, she ducked back into the corridor she’d come from.  One of the voices was Garrett. 

“Assemble your team, Doctor,” he was saying.  “We’ll be beaming up to _Voyager_ at 2400 to obtain the necessary copies of their logs and technology before it is transported to Starfleet Headquarters tomorrow.”

“Very well, Admiral,” another male voice replied.  “We’ll be ready.”

“Good.  Meet me in the transporter room in one hour.”

Janeway listened carefully for footsteps, but they seemed to be moving away from her.  She sighed and slumped against the corridor wall.  Did Garrett have Starfleet’s permission to beam aboard _Voyager_ in the middle of the night?  Was this just part of Starfleet’s plan that she didn’t “need to know”?  She grimaced.  Her instincts were screaming at her to follow Garrett and protect her ship.  Her command codes had not been disabled, and she could use them to mask her transporter signal from _Voyager_ ’s sensors.  She could use a tricorder to link with the ship’s computer and beam herself up without alerting Starfleet Command or using an official transporter room at Headquarters.

Garrett might check the ship for life signs when he beamed up with his team, so she’d have to arrive after they did.  She found a secluded spot on Starfleet grounds to wait.  She programmed her tricorder to link with _Voyager_ ’s computer and waited until it informed her that there were life signs aboard the ship.  She set the tricorder for transport and beamed aboard, using her tricorder's signal output to mask her life signs.  She smiled to herself.  _Harry is right_ , she thought.  _They don’t know who they’re dealing with when they’re up against Captain Janeway._

“Computer,” she said softly, “how many life signs are aboard besides myself?”

“Seventeen.”

“Location?”

“There are eight life signs in engineering and nine in astrometrics.”

“Computer, what is the location of Admiral Vince Garrett?”

“Admiral Garrett is in engineering.”

Engineering was good.  From the upper level, it was easy to sneak out of the Jefferies Tube unobserved.  She set the transporter controls for Jefferies Tube eighteen and programmed the computer to mask the transport.  She stepped back up onto the transporter pad and ordered, “Energize.”

As she popped the Jefferies Tube hatch that led to the upper level of engineering, she listened closely.  There were definitely voices, but they sounded like they were on the lower level.  Very slowly, she opened the hatch the rest of the way and peered out.  No one was on the upper level, so she crept out of the hatch and hid behind a console, peering down at the activity below.

“How’s it coming?” Admiral Garrett said anxiously, leaning over the shoulder of one of his men.

“We’re almost done copying the schematics for the ablative hull armor.  The integration is complicated.  It would have been helpful to have the person who installed it here.”

“I don’t need your opinions, Lieutenant,” Garrett shot back.  “Just get it done.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Admiral,” said another man’s voice, “look at this.”

Janeway peered over the ledge a little farther to see who was speaking.  The voice sounded like the same voice she’d heard in the corridor.  The man who had called Garrett over was shorter than the admiral and balding.  He wore a white lab coat over civilian clothes.  He was gesturing at one of the work screens, but Janeway was too far up to see what he was pointing to.   

“Explain, Doctor,” said Garrett.

“It’s cargo bay two.  This is where their Borg lived.  It’s been completely transformed.  Even though the regeneration alcoves have been removed—likely because the Borg still use them —the Borg technology is fully integrated with the ship’s systems.  Almost everything we need is here.  If not the technology itself, the information I need to build it.”

“Excellent,” said Garrett.  He then ordered three of his men to accompany the doctor to cargo bay two.  He left the lieutenant in charge of engineering and headed for astrometrics.    

Janeway sneaked back into the Jefferies Tube, closed the hatch, and sat back against the wall.  What did Garrett and this doctor want with Borg technology?  What could they be building that required regeneration alcoves?  It was starting to seem that Garrett was less interested in the future Starfleet technology than he was in obtaining anything relating to the Borg.  But why?  Was he working on a way to combat the Borg?  If so, there was no reason for all the secrecy.  There had to be something else to it.

Now, she had to make a choice.  Should she follow the doctor to cargo bay two, or follow Garrett to astrometrics?  After a brief moment of consideration, she decided to make her way to astrometrics.  Garrett seemed to be the one in charge.  If she was going to learn more about what he was planning, she’d have to follow him.  Astrometrics wouldn’t be as easy to spy on as engineering, but, fortunately, she had some other tricks up her sleeve.

When she arrived at the Jefferies Tube hatch that led to astrometrics, she removed a small audio surveillance device from her belt and attached it to the door.  She then calibrated the device to align with _Voyager_ ’s audio sensors.  The device was something they’d picked up from a friendly Delta Quadrant race and wasn’t easily detected by Starfleet sensors.  She had been planning to plant it in Garrett’s office, but Garrett’s beam-up to _Voyager_ had forced her to change her plans.  No matter; the device would still be just as useful.  She wouldn’t be able to see what was going on in astrometrics, but at least she would be able to hear.  She set the device to record whatever signal it picked up.

“There’s quite a bit of data to sift through, Admiral,” she heard an unfamiliar female voice say.

“Anything that will help us?” Garrett’s thin, high voice replied.

“I’ve interfaced the astrometric database with _Voyager_ ’s logs, and I’ve found quite a bit that could be useful.  For example, this.”  A console beeped as the female accessed some information.  “Commander Chakotay was equipped with a neural transceiver and linked to a rogue Borg hive mind for a period of time.  Captain Janeway, Lieutenant Tuvok, and Lieutenant Torres were also assimilated, although they found a way to combat full assimilation.”

“We’ll need that data, too,” said Garrett.  “Our method must be unstoppable.”

“Yes,” the female voice said pensively.  “Once they have been changed, we cannot allow anyone to return to their previous state.”

“It could be fatal to our project,” Garrett agreed.

“What about Seven of Nine?” the woman asked.  “She could be useful to our purpose.”

“Oh,” Garrett replied, “she is absolutely essential.  Don’t worry.  Seven of Nine will be dealt with in due course.  In the meantime, finish gathering all the data from _Voyager_ that could be useful.  Commander, our drones are going to be superior to even anything the Borg could create.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Janeway heard the astrometrics doors swish open, indicating Garrett’s departure.  She deactivated the surveillance device and removed it from the Jefferies Tube door, her heart pounding.  She tapped her comm badge and whispered, “Computer, activate transporter program Janeway Pi Omega.”

A moment later, she was back in the safety of her temporary quarters on Earth, but there was no sigh of relief to be breathed.  She checked her surveillance recorder and listened to the playback, hoping that perhaps she had misunderstood Garrett the first time around.  But as she listened, the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach deepened.  It sounded as though Garrett was taking _Voyager_ ’s technology in order to create his own brand of Borg drones.  


* * *

  
The next morning, Janeway marched into Admiral Garrett’s office, her trump card clutched in her hand.  “I’m here to see the admiral,” she told his aide, a young Bolian woman who looked to be fresh out of the Academy.

“He’s not to be disturbed, Captain.  Can I make an appointment for you tomorrow?”

“No, Ensign.  I need to see him immediately.  It’s an urgent matter.”

“I’m sorry, Captain.  The admiral gave me strict instructions not to disturb him…”

“Is he in his office?” Janeway interrupted the young woman.

“Yes, ma’am, but…”

“Either you call him, Ensign, or I’m going to call security.”  It was a bluff; no security team in their right mind would enter an admiral’s office without orders from a higher authority, but Janeway was willing to bet that the young Bolian aide didn’t know that.

“Captain Janeway…”

Janeway leaned over the desk, her face inches from the Bolian.  “You tell Admiral Garrett that unless he sees me right now, everyone at Starfleet Command is going to know all about his little ‘project’.”

The young woman looked confused, and it seemed to Janeway that she honestly didn’t know about Garrett’s project.  The aide touched her terminal to call the admiral, but before she could complete the call, the door to Garrett’s office slid open, and he appeared in the doorway.  “Captain Janeway,” he said, his eyes flashing dangerously, “please come in.”

She entered Garrett’s office and the door closed behind her.  He sat down behind his desk but there was no chair for her, and she was forced to stand.  The room was sparsely decorated, designed to be intimidating, she thought, with the large admiral’s desk and chair as the centerpiece of the long, narrow room.  “So, Captain, just what is it you think you know about my project?”

“I know that you’re taking technology and information from _Voyager_ so that you can create some kind of Borg drones of your own.”

Garrett laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound.  “Now that, my dear captain, is ridiculous.  If you go around telling the rest of the admiralty that story, they’ll laugh in your face.”

“I can prove it,” Janeway replied.  

“I don’t see how.”

She activated the small device in her hand.  “Commander,” the admiral’s voice emerged from the device, “our drones are going to be superior to even anything the Borg could create.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed.  “I see.”

“I recorded your entire conversation,” Janeway said.

“I guess I need to speak to my security team about being more thorough.”

She held up the device.  “I’m prepared to go to the highest levels of Starfleet Command with this unless you stop your ‘project’ immediately and return all the data and technology you’ve taken from _Voyager_.”

“Return it to who?” Garrett scoffed.  “The technology belongs to Starfleet, and I have full discretion to do whatever I want with it.”

“Starfleet would never sanction the creation of drones.  What the Borg do to people—wiping out their individuality by force and subjugating them to the will of the collective—is the worst crime imaginable against humanity.”

“What if I told you Starfleet Command has sanctioned my project?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Then you would be the one in error, Captain.”

“Then why all the secrecy?  If your project is sanctioned, why act like thieves in the night, sneaking aboard Voyager and copying records in secret?”

“Can you imagine the negative press this would generate?” Garrett asked.  “It’s a top secret project.  Surely you haven’t been away from the command structure for so long that you’ve forgotten that even Starfleet keeps secrets.”

“Of course not,” Janeway shot back.  “But this is wrong.  It’s evil, and I can’t imagine that the rest of the admiralty would support it if they knew what you were doing.  And the public outcry against Starfleet would be…”

“They’re not going to know,” Garrett interrupted her.

“We’ll see about that,” Janeway replied.

Garrett regarded her for a long moment before saying, “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re not going to play that recording for anyone.”

Janeway glared at him.  “Try me,” she challenged him, and took a step towards the door.

“All right,” Garrett replied, leaning back in his chair, “but you’ll be the one responsible for the consequences.”

She froze.  “What consequences?”

“You’re on precarious ground, Captain.  Of course, initially, you and your crew have been welcomed back to the Alpha Quadrant with open arms.  But that could all change at any moment.”

“What do you mean?”

“One comm call from me to the right admiral or the right judge, and your precious Maquis would be extradited to Cardassia for their war crimes.”

“You don’t have that kind of power.”

“Oh really?” Garrett asked.  “Would you like to test the veracity of your statement?”  

“To protect the safety of the Federation?  I would.”

“But would you sacrifice the lives of so many you hold near and dear in order to test a mere theory?  I’ve already told you my project has been sanctioned by Starfleet.  Nothing you do or say will change that.  You’ll only make life much harder for yourself and everyone you care about.”

“I won’t succumb to your bribery.”

“Think of it as an incentive, Captain.  Bribery is such a dirty word.”  The corners of Garrett’s lips curled up into what was supposed to be a smile.  “Just imagine,” he said, “B’Elanna Torres, Michael Ayala, Ken Dalby, all living out the rest of their days in a Cardassian prison.  I understand you’ve been a guest of the Cardassians yourself, so you know what their hospitality is like.  And Chakotay.  I know a Cardassian gul who would very much like to get his hands on Chakotay.  He might suffer months of torture before finally succumbing to the sweet surrender of death.”

“No!”

“Oh, and your precious Borg drone.  I won’t give Seven of Nine to the Cardassians.  But I’m sure I could easily find a judge and jury who would put her in prison for life.  After all, as a Borg drone, she was responsible for the assimilation of millions.  Icheb, too.  He’s only a child, you might say, but he, too, could live out the rest of his days in prison.”

“No!  You can’t do that.”

“I’m willing to be reasonable, Captain.  Things can stay just as they are.  B’Elanna Torres can continue her happy marriage and raise her little girl with Tom Paris.  Seven of Nine and Icheb can live out their days as free citizens of the Federation.  Chakotay will never have to undergo the torture of a Cardassian prison.  All you have to do is give me that data chip, and never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Janeway stood, staring at Garrett defiantly, clutching the data chip in her hand.  She had a copy of the recording, of course.  Garrett would likely assume as much.  But copy, or no copy, he was asking for her silence.  Was she willing to risk the freedom and safety of everyone she cared about?  Garrett had already proven that he had access to extraordinary resources.  If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to gain access to Voyager, nor to the personnel who had been with him the previous night.  What if he was telling the truth, and Starfleet really had sanctioned his project?  Was it possible that Starfleet had changed so much in the past seven years?  And was she willing to stake her friends’ lives on her conviction that Starfleet Command would never sanction such a project?

The images Garrett had suggested played out in her mind—Seven and Icheb’s freedom taken away, B’Elanna being torn from Tom and Miral and extradited to Cardassia, Chakotay, suffering or even dying in a Cardassian prison.  Her grip on the data chip loosened, and she stepped towards Garrett’s desk, extending her hand.

Garrett smiled, his yellowed teeth showing.  “Do you know what the greatest feeling in the world is, Captain?” he asked.  “Power.  And the greatest kind of power?  Power over another human being, power to determine the course of another person’s life.  This is the greatest feeling in the world.”

“No,” Janeway replied as she dropped the data chip on the admiral’s desk, “the greatest feeling in the world is freedom, freedom to choose the course of your own life in accordance with your own values.  The kind of power you are talking about is coercion, force, and it is evil.  You are evil, and someday, your evil will be exposed, and you will suffer the consequences.”  She paused.  “By the way, if anything should happen to me, any kind of convenient accident, proof of your treachery will be transmitted automatically to dozens of reporters and several Starfleet admirals.  It will transmit automatically in the event of my death or disappearance.  And that is no bluff, Admiral.”  She turned to walk away, but Garrett’s voice stopped her one more time.

“Don’t worry.  Your life is quite safe as long as you stay silent.  Remember, Janeway, if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone—anyone—your precious Seven of Nine will be in jail, and your Maquis crew will suffer the rest of their days in a Cardassian prison.  Don’t forget that.”

“I understand you quite clearly.  Good day, Admiral.”  She left Garrett’s office, her feet feeling heavier on each step than the last.  She knew what she had to do.  


* * *

  
“Your resignation?  Captain Janeway, I can’t accept this.”

“Please, Admiral.”  She sat across from Admiral Owen Paris, who was looking at a PADD with a carefully crafted letter she had written upon leaving Garrett’s office.

Paris rounded his desk and gestured to the sofa in his office.  “Join me for some coffee,” he suggested.

“Sir, I—”

“Please, Kathryn.”

Paris was looking at her with concern, and she relented.  “Thank you.”

“Do you still take it black?” he asked as he approached the replicator.

“Of course.”   

He ordered two cups of coffee and handed her one, then joined her on the couch.  “Now, tell me what brought this on,” he said, gesturing to the PADD.

“I’m not sure there’s a place for me in Starfleet anymore,” she replied carefully.  It wasn’t a lie.  If Starfleet had sanctioned Garrett’s project, it had changed beyond all recognition.

“It just seems like such a sudden decision.  Ever since I met you that day in your father’s office when you were eight years old, you’ve believed you belong in Starfleet.  Why, I remember you creating Academy entrance exams for your dolls.”

Janeway blushed.  She had forgotten that she used to do that.  “Starfleet has always been my goal.  I’ve always thought it was my home, but now, I’m not sure.  I think that maybe Starfleet has changed, but I haven’t.”

“What makes you think Starfleet has changed, Kathryn?”

She was silent, looking into her coffee cup.  

Paris placed a hand on her shoulder.  “Look,” he said, “I know I’m a crotchety old admiral, and maybe I’m not that easy to talk to, but whatever you’re thinking about, you can tell me.”  He paused.  “Off the record if necessary.”

Janeway took a deep breath.  “I appreciate that, sir.  I really do.  I’ve always looked up to you, and I’ve always appreciated you being there for me.  You and Admiral Patterson.  Especially after my father died.  But there’s nothing more I can tell you.”

“I’ve always thought of you like a surrogate daughter, Kathryn.  I know I was hard on you at the Academy, and when you were serving under my command, but I’m proud of you.  I’m proud of what you accomplished in the Delta Quadrant.”

Janeway felt a lump form in her throat.  She had wanted to hear those words for so long, but now they seemed hollow, empty.  “Thank you, sir,” she managed.  

“Now is the time to move forward in your career, not turn your back on Starfleet.”

“I understand how it might look that way, sir,” she said, trying to keep her emotions in check, “but I just can’t right now.”

“You can’t,” Paris said, leaning back against the sofa.  “You can’t.  And you _can’t_ tell me any more.”  He seemed to be puzzling something out in his mind.  “Kathryn,” he said suddenly, “does this have anything to do with Admiral Garrett and _Voyager_ ’s technology?”

She schooled her features, keeping a blank expression on her face, and looked into her coffee mug, Garrett’s parting words echoing in her mind, _“If you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, your precious Seven of Nine will be in jail, and your Maquis crew will suffer the rest of their days in a Cardassian prison.”_

“It sounds like you have a lot to figure out,” Paris said slowly, seeming to understand her lack of reply.  “I’m not going to accept this resignation.”

“But, sir—”

He clasped her shoulder again.  “You’re already on leave.  Make it a leave of absence.  Take as long as you need.  I’ll arrange it.  If at the end of that time, you still want to resign, I’ll accept your resignation without argument.  But take this advice, Kathryn.  Don’t resign today.  That way, if you need your Starfleet resources for anything at all, you still have your security clearance and all the resources of Starfleet Command at your disposal.  Do you understand?”

She did understand, and she felt so grateful to Paris that she wanted to hug him.  Instead she placed her hand over his.  “Thank you, sir.  I appreciate the excellent advice, and I’ll be following it.”

“Very well, Captain.  Your leave of absence commences immediately.”  


* * *

  
And that was how she came to be standing on the dock of the Janeway family house at Lake George, watching the sun go down.  The air was calm, the lake still as glass, showing the watery reflection of the puffy clouds that streaked the sky.  In the distance, she heard the melancholy cry of a loon, and she felt a kinship with the bird who swam alone and cried out into the night, waiting for a response that never came.

As the sun sank down past the water’s edge, the clouds became gold, and then purple.  It looked like someone had taken a paint brush and dipped it in luminescent pink paint, and then made broad diagonal strokes across the sky.  The sun disappeared behind the opposite shore of the lake, and the sky turned a deeper purple, and then finally faded into a dark blue.  

Janeway stood there until the sky turned to black and the twinkling lights of the stars appeared.  She looked up at the vast expanse of the night sky and breathed in the cooling air.  She took a long, shuddering breath, breathing in the truth that loomed before her.  _I guess I am alone, after all._


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

**II.**

* * *

   
The Janeway family home at Lake George was a combination of old traditions and new technology.  The property had been in the family for several generations.  The house had been rebuilt with each successive technological advance, but had always maintained the same rustic feel it had had when Kathryn Janeway’s great-great-great-grandparents had built it.  The home sat up on a hill about twenty meters from the lake and had a large front  deck overlooking the water.  It was neither grand nor tiny, and with its cabin-like design, it fit perfectly among the surrounding trees.  

No one had lived in the house full-time since Kathryn’s grandparents had passed away, and during the winter, the house sat vacant.  Her arrival in early June made her the first one in the house this year.  She found the cleaning and maintenance duties that had been required after the long winter were a welcome distraction from her worries about Garrett and her efforts to decide what she should do next.  She pinned a towel to the outdoor clothesline and breathed in the sweet-smelling Lake George air.

It had been over a week since the beginning of her leave of absence.  She had, as she had promised Admiral Paris, stopped to see her mother before coming to Lake George.  She’d told Gretchen only that she was coming to the lake house for solitude and contemplation, and mentioned nothing of her troubles with Garrett or doubts about Starfleet.  Since then, she had been in self-imposed exile, willing to see no one.  Many of her senior staff from _Voyager_ had contacted her when they heard about her extended leave of absence.  She had assured them all that she was fine and simply needed some quiet time for herself.  She had received a concerned message from Chakotay, and had replied with a text-only answer, not trusting herself to speak with him and risk revealing information that would endanger him or Seven.

She spent her days engaged in menial chores, but found them strangely satisfying.  She had taken down her grandmother’s pottery from the kitchen shelf and washed it and cleaned the shelves.  She had weeded the garden and planted new flowers.  She had hauled wood from the wood pile to the garden shed, mowed the lawn, and touched up the paint on the deck.  She was currently making her way through all the sheets and towels that had been kept in the damp basement all winter, washing them and hanging them out on the line to dry in the fresh air.  She’d been swimming every day and had gone into town to the local tennis club to revive her tennis game.  

When she was able to put aside the worries that were plaguing her and focus on the moment, she felt refreshed and relaxed.  Then she remembered what she knew about Garrett’s plans and spent hours wracking her brain, trying to figure out how she could stop him.  Short of breaking Garrett’s injunction and telling her crew what she knew, she had arrived at no conclusion.  Several times, she had been on the verge of calling Chakotay and asking him to come to Lake George, but each time, something had stopped her.  The fear of Garrett following through on his threats was foremost in her thoughts.  But also in the back of her mind was the fear of intruding on Chakotay’s relationship with Seven and damaging their chance at true happiness.  So she remained at Lake George, alone.

She finished pinning up the last towel on the line and headed back up to the house.  She was famished.  She walked in through the porch, and the screen door banged shut behind her.  There was no replicator in the kitchen, at the insistence of her mother, so she put together half a sandwich and a cup of coffee and took it with her into the office.

The office had been installed by her father, Admiral Edward Janeway, so that he could spend time with his family at the lake but still be able to keep up with the demanding work schedule of a Starfleet admiral.  The room contained a full computer console, communications equipment, encryption abilities, and anything else an admiral would need to be able to work from home.  Kathryn had been making good use of it, trying to anticipate Garrett’s next move, formulating possible strategies he might use to create his drones from the technology aboard _Voyager_ , and creating counters for each strategy that would not endanger the lives of her crew.

She had taken one bite of her sandwich when she saw the communications console was blinking.  She had made her desire to be alone clear to everyone, and she wondered who might be contacting her and why.  She accessed the message.  “Voiceprint confirmation required,” the computer stated.

“Captain Kathryn Janeway, authorization Janeway pi one one zero,” she replied.

“Identity confirmed,” said the computer.  

The message appeared on the screen, and Janeway gasped.  “Braxton.”

“Captain Janeway,” the timeship captain said.  “Don’t worry.  I’m not here to prosecute you or your future self for changing the timeline.  In fact, we purposefully allowed Admiral Janeway to succeed.  That’s why I’m contacting you.  I know that you’ve stumbled onto Vince Garrett and his work.”

Janeway took a sip of her coffee, not sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or be more concerned by Braxton’s statement.

“You see, in Admiral Janeway’s timeline, Admiral Garrett succeeded in his project thirty-five years from now.  Admiral Janeway never met him and never became aware of his plans.  In that timeline, Garrett didn’t have Seven of Nine or access to _Voyager_ ’s technology.  He was an old man by the time his project succeeded, and even had Admiral Janeway not gone back to rescue you, she would have been dead by then.  There was no one to stop Garrett, and the results were disastrous.  I don’t think I need to tell you why.  

“Garrett managed his operation from a cloaked space station.  It’s located near his last posting before San Francisco.  Once you arrive at that planet, set your sensors to detect high concentrations of tetryon particles.  This will lead you to Garrett’s secret base.

“I allowed Admiral Janeway to bring Voyager home early even though it’s given Garrett access to future technology and put Seven of Nine at risk.  I believe this is the only way to put a stop to Garrett’s work.  I’m enclosing an encrypted file in this transmission.  It contains everything I can send you on Garrett’s project.  You must do everything you can to prevent him from succeeding.  It is vital to the survival of the Federation.  

“No matter what you do, you must reveal my part in this to no one, or we risk further contamination of the timeline.  I know that we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you’re the only one who can stop Vince Garrett.  Good luck, Captain Janeway.  Braxton out.”

Janeway finished her sandwich and contemplated the message.  Was Braxton manipulating her?  It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.  On the other hand, she had wondered why he hadn’t shown up to stop Admiral Janeway from altering the timeline, and his message provided an explanation.  Either way, she was curious what he had sent her about Garrett’s project.  She took another sip of coffee and felt the thrill of exhilaration fill her.  Finally, she could take action.

She opened the encrypted file and began to read.  As she did, a cold fear filled her.  Braxton had said the result of Garrett’s work was disastrous; this was an understatement.  If Garrett succeeded, he could wipe out the individuality of the entire human race.  
  


* * *

  
“Thank you, Chakotay.  That was a wonderful meal.”  Seven of Nine wiped the corners of her mouth and placed her napkin on the table.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Chakotay replied, standing up to clear the dishes.

“I will clean,” Seven offered.  “You prepared dinner.”

“I have an idea,” Chakotay replied, a twinkle in his eye.  “We can both clean up, and then it will be done twice as fast.”

Seven cocked her head to one side and gave him a smile.  “A very efficient solution.”

They cleared the dishes from the table and cleaned up the mess Chakotay had made while cooking.  They were both living, as was much of the _Voyager_ crew, in apartments furnished by Starfleet.  Tonight they had decided to meet at Seven’s place, but while her culinary skills were constantly improving, Chakotay had wanted to make dinner.  It was their two month anniversary, and he wanted to celebrate with something special.

Chakotay reflected on the last two months as he cleaned the cutting board and knives.  He never would have imagined himself with someone like Seven.  He had always thought he would need someone more mature, but he found that he was enjoying showing Seven the ropes and being a part of her exploration of dating.  He had not stopped to think about where their relationship might go; he was simply enjoying living in the moment for the first time in over five years.

They finished the clean-up, and Chakotay wiped his hands on a dish towel.  “How about a walk?” he suggested.  “We could go to Golden Gate Park.”

She nodded.  “An acceptable activity.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked.

“I never have to wonder what you really mean, Seven.  I appreciate that.”

“I understand.  I have found the tendency of many humans to exaggerate or understate their opinions in order to spare someone’s feelings quite confusing at times.”

“I’ll try never to do that to you.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand.  “I was not speaking of you.”

He squeezed her hand.  “Shall we go?”

It was a beautiful June San Francisco evening, just warm enough for them to be comfortable walking outside without jackets.  They walked hand in hand past several other Starfleet apartment complexes.  Most of _Voyager_ ’s crew was living there, and it had made keeping in touch and supporting each other through the transition from shipboard life easier.  Harry was staying with his parents, who lived in San Francisco, and Samantha Wildman had reunited with her husband.  Sam and Greskrendregk had also offered to take Icheb in, knowing that he would have support and friendship from Naomi as well as from them.  A few of the former Maquis had taken their freedom and run, resigning from Starfleet and heading back to wherever they had come from to look for their families and assess the state of their homes post-war.

Chakotay and Seven frequently spent time with the other crew members who were living in the Starfleet apartments, meeting up for a meal, a game of velocity, or an evening on the holodeck in Sandrine’s.  Now that they were no longer in a command structure, their meetings were much more relaxed and casual than they had been on Voyager.

Chakotay felt Kathryn’s absence keenly.  He felt that she should be with her crew, enjoying the fruits of her hard-earned labor, just as he and Seven were.  He understood her desire to be alone to absorb all that had happened.  Sometimes, he wished he could get away from everything and join her at the Lake George house he had heard so much about.  But then, he wasn’t sure that even he would be welcome.  Her response to his message expressing his concern for her wellbeing had been met with a text-only response.  

Inwardly, he shrugged.  While there had been some continued bright spots over the past two years, he had felt their friendship begin to fail under the strain of their responsibilities and their isolation in the Delta Quadrant.  Still, she had been the closest friend he had ever had, and he missed the daily contact he was accustomed to with her.  Fortunately, he had plenty of other thoughts to fill his mind, including the beautiful young woman at his side.  

As they walked past the final apartment building in the complex, he felt Seven tense beside him, and she dropped his hand.  He looked down at her and saw her looking around nervously.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied hastily, but he noticed that her eyes continued to dart around until they were well past the building and nearly to the park.

“It’s not nothing,” he said after a moment.  “You were uncomfortable when we walked by that last building.”

“I’m fine, Chakotay.”

“Oh, no,” he said.  “Don’t give me that line.  Not when I was just telling you earlier how much I appreciate your honesty.”

“Really.  I am fine.  It’s nothing.”

“Did someone who lives in that building say something to you?  Something inappropriate?”

“No, no, that’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it?”  They had reached the park, and he stopped their walk, leading her over to a park bench.  “That’s the building where Tom and B’Elanna live,” he realized.  “Does this have something to do with them?”

Seven refused to meet his gaze.  Finally, she said, “I just thought that if we happened to see Lieutenants Torres and Paris, that they might not want to see me holding your hand.”

Chakotay was truly taken aback.  “Why on earth would you think that?”  He and Seven had socialized with Tom and B’Elanna on multiple occasions.  Neither of them had ever expressed any problems with the relationship, and they weren’t the types to keep their opinions to themselves.

“The other day, when we joined the crew for an evening at Sandrine’s, you were playing pool with Lieutenant Ayala and I was conversing with Naomi Wildman.”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Naomi left, and I was alone.  I overheard Lieutenant Torres talking to her husband.”

“And?”

“I do not believe that Lieutenant Torres approves of our relationship.”

Chakotay sat back against the bench and crossed his arms over his chest.  “What did B’Elanna say?”

“I am not sure it would be appropriate for me to repeat her words.”

He leaned forward, anger bubbling inside him.  “What did she say?”

“Her exact words were, ‘I can’t believe Chakotay is carrying on like this.  If he had half a brain in his head instead of lower down, he’d see it’s a terrible idea.’”

“She said that to you?!” Chakotay was incensed.

“No, she said it to her husband.”

“In earshot?”

“Chakotay, please.”  She reached out and covered his hands with her own.  She had surmised he would react in this manner, which was why she had not mentioned the incident.  “Lieutenant Torres said it quietly to Lieutenant Paris.  My Borg implants give me superior hearing.  I’m sure that in her intoxicated state, Lieutenant Torres was not thinking about that.”

Chakotay took a deep breath.  Of course Seven was right.  B’Elanna had been nothing but cordial to them, and he had no reason to believe that she would make such a statement within earshot of Seven on purpose.  Still, it upset him that one of his closest friends would talk this way behind his back.

“It was an offhanded remark,” Seven continued, “and one that she thought she was making in private.  It was my misfortune that I overheard the statement.”

“But it’s made you uncomfortable.  You let go of my hand when we walked past their building.”

Seven removed her hands from his and shrugged, sitting stiffly beside him and not meeting his eyes.

“Seven,” Chakotay said, sliding an arm around her shoulders, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.  But I don’t care what B’Elanna thinks about our relationship.  This is between you and me, no one else.”

“You don’t think it’s a terrible idea?” she asked, sounding more vulnerable than usual.

“Of course not.  If I did, I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”  He pulled back from her to take her face between his hands.  “Okay?”

She nodded, covering one of his hands with her own.  

He pressed his lips to hers for a quick kiss.  “Now, how about some ice cream?  There’s a great stand not far from here.”

She smiled and nodded, slipping her hand into his again.  They found the ice cream stand, chose their cones, and continued their walk in the park, their conversation turning to less serious subjects.  They observed the other people in the park, commented on their behavior, talked about ideas for their futures.  They watched the sunset and then walked back to Seven’s apartment.

They stepped inside, and Chakotay pulled Seven into an embrace and kissed her.  “I guess I should be going,” he said reluctantly.

“No,” she replied, grasping his hand as he attempted to pull away.  “Please stay.”

“Seven,” he said, reaching up to caress her cheek, “I don’t know if I…”

“According to my research,” she said with a small smile, “two months into a relationship is an appropriate time for partners to begin spending the night together.”  He still hesitated, and she squeezed his hand.  “I just would like you to… to hold me while we sleep.  Would that be an acceptable activity to you?”

Chakotay grinned and leaned down to kiss her again.  “More than acceptable, Seven.”

That night, he lay down beside Seven, clad in t-shirt and boxers.  He wrapped his arm around her, and she snuggled against his side, laying her head on his shoulder.  She looked up at him and he leaned down to kiss her before ordering the computer to turn off the lights.  As her breathing slowed and evened out, Chakotay smiled to himself.  Seven still had to regenerate, but she could sleep normally a few nights a week and only had to regenerate for a few hours every three or four days.  He felt contentedness wash over him as he lay there in the dark with her beside him.  It had been years since he’d had a partner to share his life and his bed with.

His mind refused to quiet, however, and he lay in bed for a long time before falling asleep.  He was thinking about B’Elanna’s comment, about the strange series of twists and turns his life had taken over the past six weeks, and about Kathryn and the gaping hole her absence had left in his life, in spite of his contentedness with Seven.  It was several hours before he fell into a light sleep, and then only a few moments before he was slowly roused from it.

“Someone else is here,” a voice whispered.

“We’ll have to take them both,” another voice replied.

Chakotay tensed.  There were at least two other people in the room.  He realized his phaser was in the living room with his jacket.  Slowly, hoping the intruders wouldn’t notice, he started to move his feet and arms out from under the blankets, extricating himself from Seven.

“Are you ready?” the first voice said.

“Ready,” the second voice replied. 

Chakotay heard a loud hiss, and he leapt from the bed in the direction of the voices.  He made contact with a humanoid form.  “Computer, lights!” he shouted, but the computer did not respond.  He started groping around in the dark, trying to find the intruders.

“Hey!” one of the voices shouted.  “Look out!”

“Chakotay?”  It was Seven’s voice now.

“Intruders!” he replied.  He heard another loud hiss, and he started to have trouble breathing.  “Seven!” he tried to shout, but his throat was constricted.  He reached out in the dark, trying to find something to grab onto, but his hands couldn’t find purchase.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, and a moment later, he collapsed onto the floor, his body hitting the side of the bed.  Then, there was nothing.  
  


* * *

  
The gravel crunched beneath her feet as Kathryn walked along the dirt road near the Lake George house.  She needed to step away from her computer terminal a few times a day to clear her head, so she frequently walked to the end of the road or went for a swim.  The old road was quiet; she could hear the sound of her own footsteps, the chirping of birds, and the occasional buzzing of a bee or fly as it whizzed past.  Not for the first time since her return home, she wished for the companionship of her dog, Molly.  But Molly was old now, and she and one of her offspring lived with Mark and his family.  Kathryn felt it would be unfair to take Molly away, even though Mark had offered.  _Maybe when all this is over, I’ll get a dog_ , she thought, and then amended, _If it’s ever over._

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind, and breathed in the clean lake air.  It smelled sweet, tinged with the scent of the wild flowers that grew nearby.  The road, like the lake, had not changed since Kathryn’s childhood.  It was the same dirt path that she had played on with her sister and where she had picked blueberries with her grandmother.  Everything about the lake house seemed to have stayed the same, and it was comforting to Kathryn to know that somewhere, something in her life remained constant.

She let her mind drift to what she had learned about Garrett’s work from Captain Braxton.  Garrett admired the Borg and their ability to perform multiple tasks simultaneously, and therefor adapt quickly to whatever situations they encountered.  In the other timeline, he had used Borg technology in secret to create drones within Starfleet.  Their physical appearance remained unchanged to the casual observer, but their minds were inexorably linked to a collective controlled by Garrett himself.  Using modified nanoprobes that he had taken from a dead Borg drone, Garrett had assimilated a group of Starfleet officers against their will.  His nanoprobes had rewritten the officers’ neural pathways, replacing them with a myo-neural cortical array.  Implants that were not visible to the naked eye provided Garrett’s drones with enhanced visual and auditory acuity, and drugs developed by one of his doctors provided them with superior physical strength.  

Without revealing what he had done, Garrett introduced his drones back into the fabric of Starfleet.  For his first test subjects, he had wisely chosen men and women who did not have close ties to friends or family.  They moved onto their next assignments and performed their tasks well, and no one knew that they were functioning as Garrett’s eyes and ears.  Garrett’s power grew by the day, and he was able to summon more and more officers to his secret operations center, where he linked them to his collective.  The results were disastrous for Starfleet and for humanity.

After reading Braxton’s encrypted files, Janeway had nearly gone straight to Chakotay and Seven, both to warn them that Seven might be in danger and to ask for their help with a solution.  But Garrett’s warning loomed in her mind, and she had done nothing.  What was the old saying?  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t?  That was how she felt.  

She shook her head.  She would have to come up with a way to stop Garrett alone.  She had enough information from Braxton to figure out how to sever one of Garrett’s drones from his hive mind, and her simulations to that effect were already showing promise.  She had an idea for a type of dampening field that might break the link between Garrett and his drones, and she planned to try a simulation as soon as she returned to the house.  Of course, that was assuming that Garrett would use the same methods in this timeline that he had in the other one.

As she turned down the driveway of the Janeway house, Kathryn noticed a hovercar that did not belong to her family.  It was a flashy model, purposefully designed to look like a 20th century Earth vehicle.  She knew that it could only belong to one person.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” B’Elanna Torres exclaimed, rounding the corner of the house.  “We thought you’d gone somewhere else.”

“You’re not an easy woman to find, Captain,” Tom added, coming up behind his wife.

“Tom, B’Elanna, it’s good to see you,” Janeway said, and it was the truth.  She realized as she saw them standing there how much she’d missed them.  “But what are you doing here?”

Tom looked around nervously.  “We need to talk to you, Captain.  Do you have a few minutes?”

Janeway furrowed her brow.  “Of course.  Come inside.  I’ll make a pot of coffee.”  She ushered Paris and Torres in through the screened porch.  “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the comfortable chairs in the porch.  “I’ll be right back.”  She hurried into the kitchen, wondering what could have possibly brought Tom and B’Elanna all the way to Lake George uninvited.  She returned to the porch a moment later with a pot of coffee and three cups.  “Is everything all right?” she asked.  “Is Miral okay?”

“Miral is fine,” B’Elanna assured her hastily.  “She’s with Tom’s mother today.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Janeway asked, handing them each a cup of coffee and sitting down across from them.

Paris looked at his wife and then back to the captain.  “It’s… well, we were hoping you could help us with something.”

“Of course.  Anything I can do.”

“It’s Chakotay and Seven,” said B’Elanna.

Janeway pursed her lips.  She wasn’t going to interfere in the relationship, if that was what B’Elanna was about to ask.  But, no, that didn’t match the urgency of her tone.  “What?”

“They’re gone,” said Tom.

“What?”

“We were supposed to meet them for a game of hoverball this afternoon.  They didn’t show.  We waited over an hour for them.  When we tried to comm them, there was no response.  We went to both of their apartments, and they’re both empty.”

“What do you mean, empty?” Janeway asked.

“Empty,” said Torres.  “Everything is gone.  No furniture, no clothes, no personal items.”

“We contacted Starfleet Command.  The person we spoke to told us they’d been reassigned.”

“Reassigned where?” Janeway asked, starting to feel a dark suspicion forming in her mind.

“We don’t have the clearance for that information,” Tom replied.  “I’ve been trying to contact my dad all day, but he’s in some sort of meeting and can’t be disturbed.”

Torres was studying Janeway.  “You didn’t hear anything from them, either, did you?” she asked.

“No,” Janeway replied.  “And it doesn’t sound like Chakotay or Seven to leave without saying a word to any of us.”  She stood and gestured to Paris and Torres to follow her.  “Come on.”  She led them into the office and accessed her computer terminal.  She pulled up Commander Chakotay’s file and saw that he had received a new assignment a few days earlier, but there was no further information listed.  She input her security clearance and pulled up the assignment details.  The assignment was vague, some sort of top secret program.  There was a clearance code attached to the assignment, the clearance code of whoever had put it into the system.  Janeway’s fingers flew over the keys as she traced the code back to its owner.  She suspected she knew what she would find, but she wanted confirmation.  After a moment, a name popped up on her screen.

“Tom, get Harry and the Doctor.  Bring them back here.”  She paused.  “It’s time I told you all what’s going on.”

“Aye, Captain,” said Tom, and he was out the door before she could say another word.

Janeway stared at the computer screen, the sinking feeling in her stomach growing worse.  Chakotay and Seven had been “reassigned” by Admiral Vince Garrett.  
  


* * *

  
An hour later, Paris, Torres, Kim and the Doctor were all seated around the fireplace in the living room at the Lake George house.  Janeway had opened a well-aged bottle of whisky for the occasion and entered the room with the bottle and five glasses.  She poured and passed the glasses around.  Harry looked at his skeptically.

“Drink up, Harry,” said Tom.  “I think you’re going to need it.”

While Tom had been gone, Janeway and Torres had thoroughly checked the property for any surveillance equipment.  Janeway had been running regular checks since her arrival and had not found any indication that Garrett was watching her.  Still, they set up a dampening field around the house just to be sure.

“Captain, what’s going on?” asked the Doctor.

Janeway pursed her lips.  “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room.  You should know that this information could endanger your lives as well as the lives of much of _Voyager_ ’s crew.  If any of you wishes to leave now, I won’t hold it against you.”

No one moved.  “We’re not backing out now, Captain,” Harry assured her.

Janeway nodded and surveyed the crew members and friends who were around her.  She took a deep breath and began to tell them what had transpired since she had first encountered Admiral Vince Garrett, her discovery of his ‘project’, his threats if she revealed what she knew to anyone, and, finally, her suspicion that he was behind Chakotay and Seven’s disappearance.  She did not mention Braxton or the information he had shared with her.

“They weren’t really reassigned, were they?” asked Harry.  “Admiral Garrett kidnapped them and then altered their personnel records.”

“That’s what I suspect, Harry.”

“From what you say about this Admiral Garrett, it doesn’t sound like Seven and Chakotay are very safe,” said the Doctor.

“I’m sure they’re not,” said Janeway.  “In fact, I overheard Garrett tell one of his people that Seven was instrumental to his plan.  I don’t know how he plans to use her, but I can only assume it won’t be good for her health.”

The Doctor stood.  “We have to save them.”

“Yes,” said Janeway.  “I agree.”

“But we don’t know where Garrett has taken them,” said Paris.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” said Janeway.

“How?” Torres asked.

Janeway shook her head.  “I can’t tell you that.  All I can tell you is that I received the information from a credible source.”

B’Elanna crossed her arms over her chest.  “Where are they?”

“Admiral Garrett has a secret base of operations near the Federation border.”

“And you know where it is?” Tom asked.

“I know how to find it,” Janeway replied.

“All right,” said Tom.  “When do we leave?”

“That’s going to depend on you, Tom.  Do you think you can get your hands on a ship?”

“Me?” Paris asked.

“I can’t be involved, not officially.  We found no evidence that Garrett is watching this house.  I think he truly believes that I’m living in isolation here, and that his threats worked.”  She paused.  “For a while, they did work.  I should never have listened to him.  I should have warned Chakotay and Seven immediately.”

“If you had, Chakotay and I might be in a Cardassian prison right now, and Garrett would still have Seven,” B’Elanna pointed out.

“But you are coming with us, Captain, aren’t you?” Harry asked.  

She nodded.  “Of course.  But no one outside of this room can know that.  For all intents and purposes, it must appear that I’m still in seclusion here at Lake George.  As I said, I don’t think that Garrett is watching me too closely.  He’s confident that he has the upper hand, maybe too confident.  We can use that.  But if I return from my leave of absence, even quietly, and take out a ship, I’m sure it will get back to him.  He has no idea we’re coming; we want to keep it that way.”

“All right,” said Tom.  “So I find a way to get my hands on a ship that we can use.  We beam you up and head off to Garrett’s secret base of operations to rescue Chakotay and Seven?”

“For a rescue operation, that leaves a lot to be desired,” the Doctor quipped.

“We’ll figure out the details during our journey,” said Janeway.  “I’ve been working on a way to stop Garrett from turning people into drones.  I’ll share all of it with you en route.  Also, Tuvok sent me a message that his treatment is nearly complete.  I think we can use his expertise on this.”

“We can stop by Vulcan and pick him up,” Kim said.

“We’re going to have to ask the Parises to take care of Miral,” said B’Elanna.  “I don’t know how we can keep that a secret.”

“It’s okay,” said Tom.  “I’ve got a solution that should take care of that and get us a ship.”

B’Elanna looked at her husband and raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Janeway with a shrug.

Janeway looked around at all of them.  “I was hoping not to involve any of you in this,” she admitted.  “It’s a risky mission.”

“Well worth the risk,” said Harry, “to save Seven and the commander.”

“We’re with you, Captain,” said the Doctor.  “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Janeway lowered her gaze.  “Thank you.”

Tom raised his glass.  “Here’s to family,” he said softly, “and all being together again soon.”

Janeway looked up, and five glasses clinked together.  “To family.”


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

  **III.**

* * *

  
Slowly, Chakotay became aware of the warm body next to him.  He instinctively wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.  Then he realized that something was horribly wrong.  The events of the previous night came back to him.  He remembered being awakened by intruders and trying to fight them off.  He remembered not being able to breathe and realized that he must have lost consciousness.  He realized that he was lying on a hard surface that was not Seven’s bed, and he opened his eyes.  He looked at himself and Seven and saw that they were lying on the floor, both clothed in plain grey jumpsuits.  “Seven,” he urged.  “Seven, wake up.”

Beside him, Seven stirred, and they sat up, surveying their surroundings.  “Where are we?” Seven asked.

“I don’t know.  What’s the last thing you remember?”

“You woke me in the middle of the night.  There were intruders in my apartment.”

He nodded.  “I heard two men.  I tried to get to them, but they must have drugged us.”  He rested his head between his hands.  “I have a killer headache.”

“So do I.”

Ignoring the pain in his temples, Chakotay stood.  The grey-walled room was furnished with a single bench and a toilet facility, and it resembled a Starfleet detention cell.

Having reached the same conclusion, Seven said, “We appear to be in some sort of brig.”

“Agreed.  But where?”  One side of the cell was protected by a forcefield, and the rest of it looked like a typical Starfleet brig.  There were no markings that might indicate their location, but there was a man standing guard outside the forcefield.  He wore a yellow Starfleet uniform and the pips of an ensign.  “Ensign,” Chakotay called him, “where are we?  What’s going on?  Why are we being held here?”

The man did not reply.  He did not even look at Chakotay.

“I’m Commander Chakotay, and I’m giving you a direct order, Ensign.  Answer me.”

The man looked at them, and Chakotay thought he saw guilt in the ensign’s expression, but he still did not reply.

“Hey!” Chakotay called again.  “Answer me!  What the hell is going on?”

The doors to the brig swished open, and an unfamiliar man entered.  He was tall and thin, with a gaunt face and eyes that seemed to sink into the back of his head.  He wore a Starfleet uniform and an admiral’s rank bar.  Instinctively, Chakotay disliked him.  “I will answer you, Commander Chakotay,” he said in a high-pitched, nasal voice, “if you’ll be a little patient.”

“Who are you?” Chakotay demanded.  “Why are we here?”

"Patience, Commander, patience.  All your questions will be answered in due time.  However, at the moment, I’m here to speak with Seven of Nine.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Seven replied.

“Is that so?” the man replied.  “I could take Commander Chakotay with me and speak to him instead, but I don’t think you’d find him returned to you in very good condition.”

“You make empty threats,” Seven replied, her tone cold.

“I assure you that my threats are far from empty.  All I need to do is say the word, and your precious Chakotay will be hauled away to a torture chamber.”

Seven looked from Chakotay to the admiral and back again.  Chakotay was shaking his head, but she turned back to the admiral anyway.  “I will speak with you willingly if you will answer the commander’s questions.”

Chakotay watched the other man consider Seven’s request.  He could see that the admiral was sizing her up, trying to determine who exactly he was holding in his brig.  Chakotay was willing to bet that the other man was about to underestimate her.

“Very well, Seven of Nine.  I’ll answer Commander Chakotay.  I am Admiral Vince Garrett, and you are here to serve me.  Now, come with me please.”

“That is an incomplete answer.  Define what you mean by ‘serve you,’” Seven replied.

“You’ll find that out in due time.  Now come with me before I have to ask the ensign here to pull out his weapon.”

Seven stood, and Chakotay quickly followed, grabbing her arm.  “Seven!”

“I will be fine, Chakotay,” she assured him.  She gestured to the admiral and the ensign, whose hand was resting on the phaser at his hip.  “It seems we have little choice in the matter.”

Reluctantly, Chakotay released her arm and watched, helpless, as she walked away with Admiral Garrett.

Outside the door to the brig, Garrett and Seven were joined by two security personnel with phaser rifles.  “You anticipated that I would not come with you willingly,” Seven observed.

“I simply want to be prepared for all possibilities.”

“Where are we?” Seven asked.  “This appears to be a space station.”

“Very observant,” Garrett replied sarcastically.  “Are you using your Borg sensory acuity?”

“No.”  Seven observed the area carefully as they walked through the corridors, acutely aware of the two phaser rifles flanking her.  “We must be far from Starfleet Command,” she deduced aloud, “for you to have such free reign to violate protocol.  How many days has it been since you kidnapped us?”

“Kidnapped is such a strong word, Seven of Nine.  I merely reassigned you.”

“You drugged us and removed us from my domicile without our permission.  We were abducted, not reassigned.  How many days?”

“Five,” Garrett admitted.  “But you’ve been under the care of my best physicians; no need to worry.”

“You kept us unconscious for five days?”

“I couldn’t take the risk that you would wake up on the journey.”

She considered for a moment why the admiral would want them to be unconscious during the journey.  “You traveled by some means other than standard warp travel?”

“Very good,” Garrett said, this time genuinely impressed with her powers of deduction.

“How far are we from Earth?”

“At standard high warp?” Garrett replied.  “Two weeks on the fastest ship in the fleet.”

Using her knowledge of star charts, Seven began to calculate the list of worlds that would be that distant from Earth.  She also realized the implication of Garrett’s statement, that even when someone realized they were missing and mounted a rescue effort, no one would be able to reach them for at least two weeks.  She followed Garrett in silence into a turbolift, down another corridor, and through a set of double doors.  The doors led to a sickbay.  Two nurses in Starfleet uniform bustled around the work stations, and a short, pudgy man wearing a white lab coat over civilian clothes rose from his desk and approached them.  

“Seven of Nine,” Garrett said, “meet Dr. Torstin Zupanich.”

The man in the lab coat fixed Seven with a grin that sent shivers down her spine.  “Seven of Nine,” he said, savoring each word on his tongue, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It is not my pleasure,” Seven retorted.  “Why have you brought me here?”

“You are here to help us change the nature of humanity,” Garrett said.

“I do not believe that the majority of humanity wishes to change its nature.”

“Humanity doesn’t know what they’re missing,” Zupanich replied wistfully.

“And if I refuse?” Seven asked.

“What makes you think you’ll have a choice?” replied Garrett.

“Please,” said Zupanich, “lie down on the biobed.  You are about to become the catalyst for the greatest advancement humanity has ever seen.”

“Define the nature of this advancement.”

“I’ve heard that the Borg desire to attain perfection,” Zupanich said.  “Is this true?”

Seven shifted uncomfortably.  “Yes, the Borg seek to attain perfection through assimilation.  But I have learned since my time as a Borg that their definition of perfection is… flawed.”

“Flawed?” Zupanich asked.  “The Borg function seamlessly.  They are able to make many advanced calculations simultaneously and to complete tasks with efficiency beyond what any human group could achieve.  There is no dissension, no questions that arise from differing opinions, no fights or altercations, no deviation from the command structure.  Just imagine if the crew of a Starfleet ship could operate with the same efficiency.”

Seven felt a chill go down her spine.  “You intend to use me to create a Borg collective within Starfleet?”

“No,” Zupanich soothed.  “It will be a human collective.”

“Enough talk,” Garrett cut in.  “Lie down on the biobed.”

Seven looked at Garrett defiantly.  “I will not comply.”

“Then you will be forced,” Garrett said, and he motioned to the two security guards.  One guard pointed his phaser rifle at her while the other one, along with one of the nurses, tried to wrestle her onto the biobed.  She struggled against them, and managed to free one arm and strike one of the nurses hard.  Then she felt the shock of a disruptor beam hit her, but there was no pain.  Instead, she discovered that she had lost all control of her limbs, and she crumpled helplessly to the floor.

“What have you done to me?” she asked Garrett.

The admiral smiled, showing his yellowing teeth, and gestured to the weapon in the hand of one of the security guards.  “One of Dr. Zupanich’s inventions.  It disrupts the neurological system, temporarily paralyzing the victim’s limbs.  In other words, it’s my way of ensuring that you will comply.”

Seven was hoisted up on the biobed, and she watched as her hands and feet were restrained.  “What are you doing?”

“I’ll let Dr. Zupanich explain,” said Garrett, the same smug smile still on his face.

Zupanich took a medical tricorder, and began to run it over Seven’s cranium.  “I’m scanning your myo-neural cortical array.  I need to see how much of the Borg network is still intact, and how much your human neural pathways have taken over.”  He closed the scanner and looked at Garrett.  “The myo-neural cortical array is intact.  Bypassing her human physiology should not be a problem.”

“Good,” Garrett said.

Zupanich picked up a laser scalpel from the table and approached Seven.  “Now, I’m going to extract some of your nanoprobes so we can reprogram them.”

Garrett leaned over Seven, exposing his toothy smile once again.  “You, my dear Seven of Nine, are going to be the start of a new collective, my collective.”

“No!” Seven cried.  “I will not comply!”  She tried to struggle against the bonds that held her, but she was powerless to move her limbs.  She could only watch in horror as her nanoprobes were extracted and Admiral Garrett looked on in smug satisfaction.  


* * *

Torres, Janeway, and the Doctor sat together in the rear compartment of the _Delta Flyer_ , poring over the data that Captain Braxton had given Janeway.  Paris had managed to convince his father to let him take the _Flyer_ to “test some new modifications” he and B’Elanna wanted to make.  He had begged for use of the ship, suggesting that while the official purpose was work, he also would gain some much needed time alone with his wife.  Admiral Paris pulled some strings and granted his son’s request, all too happy to have some alone time with his new granddaughter as a bonus.  Tom had asked for a full ten days, meaning that they would make good progress toward Garrett’s secret base by the time anyone realized they weren’t where they were supposed to be.

“Garrett is creative, I’ll give him that,” said B’Elanna.

“If you want to call extreme coercion and brutality creativity,” the Doctor replied.

“I just mean it’s an interesting idea, using Borg technology to create a hive mind while still allowing the individual to maintain enough personality to be able to function in society, without anyone knowing they’ve been…”

“Assimilated?” Janeway supplied.

“Exactly.  It’s original.  Ingenious actually, even though it’s being used for an evil purpose.”

“In fact, Lieutenant,” the Doctor corrected her, “the individual does not maintain his or her own original personality.  Rather, the individual’s personality is replaced and programmed by the person or people in charge of the collective.”

Janeway felt a chill run down her spine.  _Power over others_ , that was what Garrett was after.

“I wasn’t praising Garrett.  I think his plan to turn people into drones is as despicable as you do,” B’Elanna said.

Janeway could see that the Doctor was about to shoot back another acerbic reply, and she held up a hand.  “Doctor, why don’t you go to the forward compartment and give Harry and Tuvok a hand.  They’re working on ways disable the neural transceiver that links to the hive mind.”

“All right, Captain.  I’d rather do that than sit here listening to Lieutenant Torres praise this evil monster.”

“I wasn’t…” B’Elanna started, but the Doctor was already gone.

“Let him go,” Janeway said.  “You know how protective he is of Seven.  He’s just upset.”

“He’s not the only one whose friends’ lives are on the line.”

Janeway let the comment pass without response.  “I wish we knew exactly what Garrett is doing,” she admitted.  “This data includes only one possible way he’ll try to create a collective.”

“But it’s almost certain he’ll reprogram Seven’s nanoprobes and use them to rewrite the neural pathways of his test subjects.  I don’t see what else he’d want her for.”

“Is there a way for us to re-reprogram the nanoprobes?” Janeway asked.

“Maybe.  If I had one to experiment with I could tell you.  The Doctor might have a better idea.  He’s had a lot of experience with nanoprobes.”

Janeway looked in the direction the EMH had gone.  “We’ll ask him later.”

“I still think some kind of force field or dampening field is our best bet to cut Garrett off from whatever drones he’s managed to create.”

“Right,” Janeway agreed.  “If Garrett has managed to connect himself to the hive by the time we get there, we’ll have to get into his base and find him in order to set up the dampening field around him.  We have to be within, what, three meters of him?”

B’Elanna nodded, and then asked, “You don’t know any more about this secret base of operations of his?”

Janeway shook her head.  “Unfortunately, no.”

The two women lapsed into silence for a moment before B’Elanna said, “I keep thinking about that time you and I were assimilated.  Even after only being partially assimilated, I had nightmares about it for weeks.”

“So did I,” Janeway admitted quietly.  After another moment of silence, she continued, “Garrett’s experiments could easily kill Seven.  For all we know, he wants to chop her up and use her Borg components for his project.   And Chakotay…”  She trailed off.

“Chakotay could become a drone in Garrett’s collective,” B’Elanna finished for her.  “No.  We won’t let that happen, Captain.”

Janeway buried herself in her work station.  She was perfectly comfortable having a personal conversation when her role was to listen and offer advice.  She was much less comfortable being the one doing the talking.

“When was the last time you spoke to Chakotay?” B’Elanna asked, trying a new tactic.

“I sent him a message when I took my leave.”

“In person.”

“The day he and Seven disembarked.  I wished them both the best.”

B’Elanna shook her head and turned her attention back to her work station.  “I wonder how long it’s going to take him to realize what a mistake that is,” she murmured under her breath.

“It’s not up to us to judge Chakotay’s relationship choices,” Janeway admonished gently.

“With all due respect, Captain, I’ve known him for a lot longer than you.  I’ve seen him do this before, and it never ends well.”

“Do what?”

“Chakotay has two kinds of women in his life.  There are women like you, and me, and Sveta, and his sister, women who are not afraid to challenge him, argue with him, tell him he’s being a p’tak.”  

This statement made Janeway smile genuinely for the first time in days.  She chuckled, thinking about all the times both she and B’Elanna had argued with Chakotay or told him flat out that he was wrong.  “And the other kind?”

“The women he needs to fix, like Seska.”  B’Elanna paused.  “Or Seven.”

“Seven doesn’t need fixing; she’s quite capable of taking care of herself and more than willing to argue with Chakotay, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“But she’s young, inexperienced.  I’ve seen them together.  He’s ‘showing her the ropes’ of dating, and he’s enjoying being her ‘teacher.’  That’s because Chakotay is a good, kind man, and because he is a great teacher; it’s one of his natural talents.  Why do you think he was so valued at the Academy?  But it doesn’t belong in dating.  Those relationships don’t last, or they end badly.  Just look at what happened with Seska.  Seven’s well intentioned, I’m sure, but they’re still going to end up hurting each other, or being unhappy, one way or another.”

Janeway was looking at B’Elanna with a puzzled expression.  As well as she knew Chakotay, somehow this had never occurred to her.  And she had a hard time reconciling B’Elanna’s statement with what Admiral Janeway had told her about Chakotay and Seven’s relationship.  “I don’t think we can ever truly know how relationships will work out,” she said.

B’Elanna turned her gaze back to the captain, studying her, trying to figure out what the older woman was thinking.  She opened her mouth to reply to Janeway’s cryptic statement, but before she could utter a word, Tuvok’s voice came through the comm.  “Tuvok to Janeway.  We are about to run a simulation to test our latest hypothesis about the neural transceiver.”

“I’m on my way,” Janeway replied, and hurried to the forward compartment.  B’Elanna watched her go, and wondered what her true thoughts were about Chakotay’s relationship with Seven.  She could only hope that one of them would ever have the chance to talk to him about it.  


* * *

  
In spite of having led a dangerous life, Chakotay had never spent time in prison.  He had successfully evaded both the Federation and the Cardassians as a Maquis, and his Starfleet days had never seen him incarcerated, either.  Sitting in Admiral Garrett’s brig now was possibly the most frustrating experience of his life.

He had nothing but time, and felt completely helpless.  He received two meals a day from one of the security guards.  He had tried repeatedly to engage the guards in conversation, but they refused to speak to him.  He tried to pass time by doing push-ups, shadow-boxing, and sleeping, but his sleep was restless, and he could only exercise for so long on the meager meals he was given.  Chakotay had never felt so alone.

It had been three days, by his count, since Seven had been taken away by Admiral Garrett.  He worried about her and wondered what Garrett was doing to her.  Was he dissecting her for her Borg technology?  Had he somehow found a way to manipulate her mind?  Was he torturing her?  What was Garrett’s evil plan and why had the two of them been kidnapped?  He had tried to find some way to escape from his cell, but he was being too well watched, and he had realized on the second day that his efforts at escape were wasted.

As he lay on the bed in the darkened cell under the watchful eye of the night guard, he found his thoughts drifting.  He thought about his friends, the men and women he had served with in the Maquis who had followed him through the Delta Quadrant on Voyager.  He thought about his family, his cousin in Ohio with whom he had so recently reunited, and his sister, who had promised to make her way from Trebus for a visit as soon as she could.  He thought about Tuvok, and wondered how his treatment was going.  He wondered how Harry and the Doctor were adjusting to life back at home, and he thought about Neelix so far away in the Delta Quadrant with Dexa and Brax.  He thought about Tom and B’Elanna and little Miral and knew that if anyone would be suspicious of his disappearance, regardless of what official excuse Garrett had come up with, it would be them.  

And then, in spite of himself, his thoughts turned to Kathryn.  He wondered anew at the reason for her sudden leave of absence from Starfleet and her lack of communication since their arrival home.  He realized, lying in that cell, utterly alone, that he might never see her again, and the thought disturbed him.  Would she ever know what had happened to him?  Would she ever understand how much he had missed her?  He felt his heart fill with regrets, doubts and memories, and he tried to push them away, to let his mind go blank.  He tried to find a place of calmness within, a state from which he could contact his spirit guide, even without the aid of an _akoonah_ , but peace eluded him.  He dozed in and out of a troubled sleep throughout the night.

The next morning, instead of the expected ensign with a bland breakfast in hand, he was roused by two men in security uniforms holding phaser rifles.  “Get up,” one of them ordered.

“Why should I?” Chakotay retorted.

“Time to go,” the man replied roughly.  “You’re coming with us.”

Chakotay moved slothfully, sitting up and taking time to run his hands through his hair.  “Where are we going?” he asked.  “I have to make sure I’m appropriately dressed.”

“Move it, Commander,” the guard said, using his title like an insult.  “We don’t have all day.  Quit your small talk.”

Chakotay continued to move painstakingly slowly, enjoying the opportunity to defy his captors until one of them deactivated the forcefield while the other rushed into his cell, hitting him hard in the gut with the butt of his phaser rifle.  “Oof!”  Chakotay stumbled as the blow hit him.  Recovering, he rose up angrily, ready to launch himself at the guard who had struck him.  

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Commander,” said the other security guard.  He had his rifle trained on Chakotay, and the commander stood down.  “Now, come with us.”

“Where are you taking me?” Chakotay asked, but neither of the guards would answer.  “How can you consider yourselves Starfleet officers?” Chakotay asked them as they marched him through the corridor and into the turbolift.  “Is this what you trained for?  Why you went through the Academy?  So you could follow some crazy admiral and imprison fellow officers?  Subject them to who knows what kind of torture?”

“We’re just following orders, sir,” one of the guards replied.

“Don’t you ever think about what you’re doing?  Ask a question?  Wonder if it’s right?”

Neither of the guards responded as they marched him out of the turbolift and down another corridor.  Finally they arrived at their destination, and they herded Chakotay into a sickbay.  

Chakotay looked around and saw Seven lying on one of the biobeds, her feet and hands restrained.  “Seven!” he cried, and lunged towards her, but before he could get very far, there was a phaser rifle in his face, blocking his path and the two guards held his arms.

“Thank you for joining us, Commander Chakotay,” said Admiral Garrett as he emerged from an office behind Seven’s biobed.

“What have you done to her?” Chakotay demanded, still straining towards Seven.

“Seven of Nine has not been harmed,” said another man in a white lab coat who exited the office behind Garrett.  “It took us a few days to get the reprogramming just right, but now I have succeeded, and we’re ready to proceed.”

“Dr. Zupanich has taken very good care of your precious Seven,” Garrett added.  “Now, it’s time for you to join her in the good doctor’s care.”

Seven seemed to fade into consciousness, because Chakotay saw her turn her head and meet his eyes.  “No, Chakotay!” she said.  “Don’t let them touch you.”  The she turned her attention to Zupanich.  “Don’t touch him!”

“You made our job so much easier, Seven of Nine,” Garrett said.  “I would have used one of my men as a test subject had you been alone that night when we came to bring you to us.  But Commander Chakotay will make a much better test subject, don’t you think?”

“No!” Seven cried again.  Chakotay watched as she attempted to struggle against her restraints.  

“That’s too bad,” said Garrett, continuing in his patronizing tone.  “Dr. Zupanich and I think the commander is ideal.  Don’t we, Doctor?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Zupanich replied.

“After all, the commander has been linked to a hive mind before.”  Garrett fixed his gaze on Chakotay.  “Haven’t you, Chakotay?”

Chakotay felt his stomach drop.  So, Garrett was planning to link him and Seven somehow.  “When Starfleet finds you, you’ll be put in prison for the rest of your life,” he told Garrett.

“I doubt that, Commander, very much,” replied the admiral in an arrogantly smug tone.  The admiral then nodded to the two guards still flanking Chakotay.

“Get on the biobed,” one of them said, gesturing with his phaser rifle to the bed next to Seven.

“No,” Chakotay replied.

“Obey or I will shoot you,” said the guard.

“Chakotay, do what he asks,” Seven said.  “Unfortunately, in this case, resistance is futile.  Their weapons can temporarily paralyze you.  If you do not get on the biobed, they will force you.”

Reluctantly, Chakotay climbed onto the biobed next to Seven, his eyes darting around the room, from Seven, to the guards, to Zupanich and Garrett.  Seven was right; they were outmanned and outgunned.  He could follow Garrett’s orders or risk injury to himself or Seven.  Once he was on the biobed, strong restraints closed around his wrists and ankles.  “Seven, have they hurt you?” he asked, relieved to at least be able to see and speak to her.

“I have suffered no permanent damage,” she replied, “but…”

“Shut up!” Garrett snarled.  “No talking.”  He turned to the doctor.  “Dr. Zupanich, are you ready to begin the procedure?”

“I’m ready, Admiral,” said Zupanich.  He approached Chakotay’s biobed with a hypospray.  “These are modified nanoprobes,” he said as if he was explaining a routine medical procedure.  “I am going to inject them into your bloodstream.  They are programmed to make their way directly to the brain and begin rewriting your neural pathways.  You are our first human test subject, Commander.  Congratulations.”

Chakotay began to fight against the restraints holding him down.  He thrashed his head from side to side, trying to block the doctor’s access to his neck.

“There’s no need to be afraid, Commander,” said Zupanich in an eerily soothing tone.  “You and Seven of Nine will merely be the first members of a new type of collective.  All your old worries, your individual concerns, your personal problems, will fade away.  They will be replaced by the clarity of one mind, one thought, and one set of commands.”  Chakotay continued to struggle, but Zupanich pressed his hand down onto the side of his head, forcing one side of his face against the biobed.  “Your life is going to be so much simpler now.”  Zupanich pressed the hypospray to the side of Chakotay’s neck.

“No!” Seven was shouting.  “Don’t do this to him.  Choose another test subject, please.  Don’t do this to him.”

Chakotay felt a sharp sting where the hypospray had made contact with his skin, and then a searing, white-hot pain raced up his neck and through his temple.  He cried out in pain and could feel the restraints cutting into his wrists and ankles as he fought against them.  White spots began to appear in his vision, and he cried out again.  Then he heard the hiss of another hypospray, which dulled the pain and lulled him into a deep sleep.  


* * *

  
Kathryn drummed her fingers against the side of the bed as she lay restlessly in one of the bunks on the _Delta Flyer_.  She hadn’t slept for forty-eight hours, and she knew she had to get some rest, but her mind was racing, and she was having a hard time falling asleep.

They were still at least five days from the coordinates that Braxton had given her, even at maximum warp.  They were spending their days running simulations.  What if Garrett did this?  What if Garrett did that?  They had at least five different possible variants on a dampening field that could disrupt the connection between the nexus or central processor and the collective.  In an actual Borg Collective, this would be the hive’s link with the queen.  Janeway suspected that in Garrett’s case, he would want to function as the central processor himself.  The Doctor’s expertise with reprogramming nanoprobes would also no doubt be useful, but reprogramming nanoprobes took time, and Janeway didn’t think time was a luxury they were going to have.  The truth was, they wouldn’t know what they were up against until they arrived.  And by the time they found Garrett’s secret base, they might already be too late.

_No_ , she thought.  She wouldn’t allow herself to think that way.  They would be successful.  They had to be.  She hadn’t brought Seven back to her humanity and returned her to a life on Earth so she could be dissected and abused by an insane, power hungry admiral.  Kathryn felt her eyes well with tears at the thought.  She was so proud of the young woman that Seven had become.  She couldn’t bear to think that Seven’s newly found individuality could be cut short so soon and so cruelly.

Nor could she bear the thought of Chakotay as one of Garrett’s army of drones.  Like B’Elanna, she had been thinking back on the terror of their brief, partial assimilation.  She still had the occasional nightmare about the Collective’s voice in her head, still occasionally was beset by the irrational fear of losing her individuality and being forced to perform heinous acts by a collective consciousness, stripped of her ability to decide her own values and her own course of action.

Kathryn knew that Chakotay feared this just as much as she did.  Although he had never said it aloud, she had always suspected that this fear was part of the reason he had objected so strongly to keeping Seven on board Voyager in the first place.  Whether by assimilation or his inherited ‘crazy gene,’ Kathryn knew that one of Chakotay’s greatest fears was losing control of his mind.

Her thoughts about Chakotay led her back to B’Elanna’s statement about his relationships with women.  She thought back over the time she had known him.  There had not been many women in his life over the past seven years, but B’Elanna was right— each one had been a woman who needed to be saved or educated or “fixed”, from Seska to Riley Frasier.  And, she could see how Seven might fit that pattern, too.  For the first time since their arrival home, she considered the possibility that Seven and Chakotay’s relationship might not be set in stone in this timeline.  It seemed that they had had a happy relationship in the admiral’s world, but there was no guarantee of that in this universe, even if they both came out of this situation alive and well.

Kathryn shook her head, trying to discard the possibilities these ideas generated in her mind.  There was only one important thing right now, and that was stopping Garrett and getting Chakotay and Seven back safe.  Any other possibilities would have to be dealt with later.  Focusing her mind on the image of Chakotay and Seven both safe aboard the Delta Flyer, Kathryn Janeway finally fell into a troubled sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**IV.**

* * *

 Seven of Nine remained still, her eyes open but seemingly unfocused, as she was scanned with a tricorder for the fifth time that morning.  She did not allow her eyes to twitch and forced her breathing to remain even so as not to let Dr. Zupanich know she was aware of her surroundings.  She listened intently to a dialogue between Garrett and Zupanich.

“What is Commander Chakotay’s condition?” Garrett asked.

“Fifty percent of his neural pathways have been rewritten.  The nanoprobes have completed the cortical node that will allow neural interlink.”

“Excellent.  Does that mean we can move on to phase two?”

“Yes,” Zupanich replied.  “We can proceed.  I’m going to use Seven of Nine’s neural interlink frequency to connect them.”

“And then you’ll be able to implant my neural transceiver?” Admiral Garrett asked anxiously.

“The connection between the two drones will take several hours to complete.  After that, I want to observe them for eighteen to twenty-four hours before I equip you with the neural transceiver and link you to the hive.”

“Less than two days, then?” Garrett asked.  “Thirty six hours utnil I can test my first orders to my collective?”

“Yes, Admiral.  I should be able to equip your neural transceiver tomorrow or the next day.”

“Excellent.”

Seven continued to lie very still.  At least she knew what Zupanich and Garrett were planning.  She understood that Zupanich would use what remained of her myo-neural cortical array to link her to Chakotay.  Zupanich had said that only fifty percent of Chakotay’s neural pathways had been rewritten.  She hoped that she would be able to reach the Chakotay she knew and communicate with him before the nanoprobes rewrote his entire mind.

“What about Seven of Nine?” asked Garrett.  “She seems to be an unwilling participant.”

“I’ve already reactived her myo-neural cortical array,” said Zupanich.  “Her old Borg circuitry has already taken over; that’s how those drones are programmed.  Look at her.  She’s been conscious for this entire conversation, but there’s no reaction.  Drones will only react when ordered to or in case of a threat.  She’s experiencing neither, so she’s inert.”

Zupanich said it with an air of authority, but Seven smiled inwardly.  After having been manipulated by the Borg more than once, she had worked with the Doctor to ensure that her old Borg circuitry would never be able to completely override her human neural network.  Zupanich’s idea wouldn’t work as well as he thought.  But, she reminded herself, for all intents and purposes, it had to appear to Zupanich and Garrett that their plan was working perfectly.

“Well,” Zupanich said, “I’m ready to get started on the link.  If you’ll excuse me, Admiral.”

“Of course,” said Garrett, but Seven heard no hiss of the doors to sickbay, and she deduced that Garrett was standing by to watch.  She remained immobile, showing no emotion, reacting as a drone would to an irrelevant conversation.

She heard Zupanich walk over to a table near her biobed and pick up an instrument.  There was a low hum, and then the doctor walked away from her bed and towards Chakotay’s.  After the hum and whir of several medical instruments, Seven gasped, unable to stop herself from reacting.  Zupanich leaned over her, but she did not meet his gaze, not letting him know that she was aware of his presence.  He ran a medical tricorder over her.  “The link between the two drones has been established,” Zupanich stated.

Seven felt the strange sensation of her Borg neural link activating.  She had been linked several times since she had been severed from the Collective, but each time it felt more foreign than the last.  She felt the touch of Chakotay’s mind and forced her body to relax as she allowed her thoughts to focus on him.

_Chakotay_ , she thought.  _Chakotay, can you hear me?_

There was no reply, and, through the link, she began to investigate the state of Chakotay’s mind.  The nanoprobes that Zupanich had stolen from her and then reprogrammed were, indeed, quickly rewriting Chakotay’s neural pathways.  They had already installed a cortical node that was attached to his brain stem.  The nanoprobes were now reconfiguring his frontal lobe, rewriting the process he would use to solve a problem or make a decision.  She decided to delve deeper.

_Chakotay?_ She felt a sensation, as if he was reaching out a hand to her, calling out from a great distance.  _Chakotay_ , she said, _you must listen to me.  Hold on to what you know is true.  Hold on to your individuality.  Hold on to who you are.  They are trying to take it away from you.  Don’t let them._ There was no reply, but she could feel the touch of his mind, and had confidence that somewhere in the recesses of his self, he had heard her.

She had to find a way to connect with the Chakotay that she knew.  His memories, she realized, as the link between them grew stronger.  His memories haven’t been affected yet.  Their bond intensified, giving her deeper access to his mind.  She hesitated.  She was about to invade Chakotay’s privacy by looking into his psyche and accessing memories of his past that he had never shared with her.  Was it moral for her to look into these memories?  But then she thought about the nanoprobes quickly rewiring his brain, and she realized that if she didn’t do this, he might lose himself completely.  Mentally, she trudged on.  _Remember_ , she thought towards him.  She had to fight to keep her body calm, not to betray herself to Zupanich or Garrett, as her connection to Chakotay deepened, and she began to see his life through his own eyes.

_He was a young boy, standing on a rocky cliff over a vast, calm lake on a planet she didn’t recognize.  The sun beat down on his tanned body, and he jumped off a rock into the water, plunging into its soothing, cool depths.  His older brother, already swimming in the lake below, teased him for being afraid to jump off the highest point of the cliff.  “Chac!” his mother called.  “Aapo, time for dinner.”  Reluctantly, the two boys climbed out of the water, drying themselves as they ran up to the house where their mother had prepared a delicious meal._

_Chakotay_ , Seven thought.  _Do you hear me?_

_He was an angry teenager, arguing with his father about whether or not he should be allowed to attend Starfleet Academy.  “I have a recommendation from Captain Sulu,” he said, but his father did not listen._

_He was an angry young man, standing on the bank of the same lake where he had swum as a boy, but instead of jumping into the water with carefree joy, he was falling to his knees, crying out, “Father, Father, please forgive me!”  He looked up at the world that had been so beautiful to him as a child, and saw the fires of war burning around him.  He stood, determined to set things right by resigning his Starfleet commission and joining the Maquis to fight for his people._

_He was an angry Maquis captain, leading his crew through ambushes on Cardassian bases so that he could liberate prisoners.  He captained the_ Val Jean _without fear, ordering his people into the Badlands to pursue Cardassian ships.  He was a keen hunter and a demanding leader who commanded the loyalty of his crew.  He found moments of pleasure in nights with a woman named Seska, but anger and hatred dominated him and drove him onward.  He felt endless compassion for the Maquis and the worlds under siege, but gave no quarter to a single Cardassian soldier._

H _e was standing on the bridge of a Starfleet vessel—_ Seven recognized it as _Voyager—ready to punch Tom Paris in the face when a petite redheaded captain stepped in between them.  “You won’t need those here,” she said, looking at his phaser.  He lowered the weapon, and suddenly felt disarmed in more ways than one._

_Chakotay?_ Seven tried again.  There was no verbal response, but there was a sensation, a recognition, and he seemed closer this time.  She knew she could reach him; she just had to go deeper.

_He was chiseling into a large piece of stone, carving out a place big enough for a person to lie down in comfortably, but still be able to rest her back up against one side.  He was creating a piping system and a pump that went from the river to the tub, and a heating system to heat the water.  It was easy to keep it a secret from her.  She spent all her time in the woods, looking for the insect that had given them this disease and stranded them on this planet.  He enjoyed the work of making the tub.  He no longer felt angry._

_He was holding Kathryn’s hand across a table, fumbling with his words, trying to find a way to tell her how he felt without scaring her, inventing a cumbersome legend in the process.  Kathryn was crying, and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her and never let her go._

Seven stopped.  Suddenly she felt that these memories might be too personal.  She worried that they might be something she wasn’t meant to see, or, moreover, something that she didn’t want to.  _Chakotay?_ she tried again, hesitantly.

She could feel his response, an attempt to reach back to her, but it was not enough.  She had not found him yet, or what was left of him as the nanoprobes continued to rewrite his neural pathways.  But he was there; somewhere, deep within his mind, there was a part of him that was still untouched by the Borg technology.  That was the part she had to find, the part she had to convince not to let go.  She steeled herself.  _I’m sorry, Chakotay_ , she thought, and continued.

_He was clutching Kathryn’s body to him.  “You can’t die on me now.  No, Kathryn…  You can’t die.”  A cold fear gripped him, the fear that he had lost the most precious person in the universe to him without ever having told her how he felt.  Tears streamed down his cheeks._

_He was holding a champagne flute, clinking glasses with Kathryn, on a sailboat on the holodeck.  The deck of the boat was illuminated by moonlight, and he admired the way the light glanced off her hair.  He inhaled the sweet-smelling air of the holographic Lake George and sipped his champagne.  “To life,” he said.  “To life,” she echoed, and she scooted a little closer to him._

_He was sitting across the table from Kathryn enjoying a candlelit dinner, romantic music playing in the background.  “Are you with me?” she asked, caressing his cheek.  “Always,” he replied, and when her hand found its way into his later that night, he never wanted to let go._

_Chakotay, please answer me_ , Seven thought.

_Yes_ , she finally heard the strangled reply.  _I am here.  I am Chakotay._

_Do you know who I am?_ she asked.  _Do you remember me?_

_Kathryn?_

Seven tried to hide how stung she felt by the remark.  She did not know if Chakotay would be as acutely aware of her feelings through the link as she was of his.  _No_ , she thought back.  _Not Kathryn._

She delved into his memories again.  _He was telling Janeway that they should throw Seven of Nine out the airlock.  He was telling her the nature of the scorpion.  He was…_

_No!_ Seven shouted in her own mind.  _Flash forward._

_He was stranded alone with Seven of Nine on a primitive planet, beginning to see her in a new way.  He was flattered by her attentions, delighted by an impromptu picnic in the cargo bay.  He was admiring her attributes, finding that he enjoyed her company in spite of himself._

_Seven._   She felt relief wash over her; he remembered her.  What is happening?

_They are trying to take away your mind, Chakotay.  Garrett and Zupanich, they are trying to take away your individuality, your ability to make choices, everything that makes you who you are.  You can’t let them.  I’m going to help you in every way I can, but you need to help, too.  Don’t let go of who you are._

_I don’t understand_ , Chakotay replied.  _I don’t understand what’s happening.  Things that I used to understand, used to know, now they’re dark._

He was speaking of the nanoprobes, Seven realized, and the changes they were making to his mental structure.  _I’m going to help you, Chakotay,_ she assured him.  _I’m going to help you to hold on, to remember.  And whatever you do, don’t give up._ Seven had to fight hard not to react to the strangled cry of anguish that was his reply.

* * *

     
“What is our ETA at the coordinates I gave you?” Janeway asked as she entered the front compartment of the Delta Flyer.  

“Fifty-two hours, Captain,” Kim replied.

“Start using the long range scanners to look for for a high concentration of tetryon particles,” Janeway ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Kim.

“Do you believe that Admiral Garrett’s base could be this far from the coordinates?” Tuvok asked.

“I think it’s unlikely, Tuvok, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Finally!” said Torres.  “Something we can do!”

“As soon as we detect Garrett’s base, we’ll assess the situation,” said Janeway.  “Then it will be time to test our theories.”

Torres handed Janeway a small device.  It was a third the size of a tricorder and would easily fit onto a belt or into a pocket.  “This will generate the dampening field we need to separate Garrett from his collective.  Whoever uses it will need to be within three meters of him, but it’s not a device Garrett will recognize or be able to deactivate.  It contains a scrambler and won’t be detected in a standard sensor sweep.  One of us can easily conceal it on our person.”

“Good work, B’Elanna,” Janeway said.

“I’ve looked at all my old nanoprobe research,” said the Doctor, “and I have no reason to believe that nanoprobes, once programmed, cannot be reprogrammed an infinite number of times.”  He paused.  “What I don’t know is what kind of damage the nanoprobes may have already done to the neural pathways of Commander Chakotay and Seven.”

“You’ll find a way to treat them, Doctor,” said Janeway confidently.  She looked around the cockpit of the _Delta Flyer_ , feeling an emotion of intense gratitude rise up within her.  “Thank you all for being here,” she said.  “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Paris smiled.  “We wouldn’t have let you go without us, Captain.”

Janeway looked at Paris, Tuvok, Torres, Kim and the Doctor, and she smiled back, realizing that Tom was right.  Perhaps she wasn’t alone, after all.  


* * *

  
Seven opened her eyes and became aware that she was no longer restrained to the biobed in the medical bay.  Instead, she was standing in a regeneration alcove.  In fact, as she looked around, she realized she was in a bay of regeneration alcoves in various states of completion.  In the alcove next to her stood Chakotay.

Seven did not know how many hours it had been since Zupanich had activated their neural link.  She realized that she must have lost consciousness after so many days without regeneration.  Judging by the number of completed regeneration alcoves, the alcoves seemed to predate her and Chakotay’s arrival.  Garrett was preparing not only for a couple of test subjects, but for a whole miniature collective.  

Mentally, she reached out to Chakotay.  The nanoprobes continued to rewrite his neural pathways, and after her initial success, it would only get harder and harder to reach him.  She could still feel the touch of his actual mind.  The nanoprobes had not completely erased it yet.  She thought back to her own assimilation experience, how Captain Janeway had been able to restore her individuality even after she had spent most of her life as a drone.  She had to believe that no matter what effect the nanoprobes had, the real Chakotay would still be somewhere in that body.

The door to the bay swished open, and Garrett and Zupanich entered.  Seven closed her eyes, remaining still.  No matter what, Garrett and Zupanich had to believe their plan had worked, that her Borg neural net had taken over, and that her human mind had been completely sublimated.  She needed to buy herself time.  She and Chakotay were outmanned and outgunned, and if she was going to find a way for them to escape, Garrett needed to trust her and believe that she would follow his orders as a drone would, without question.

Zupanich pressed the panel next to her regeneration alcove, and she opened her eyes.  She stepped down from the alcove, staring straight ahead.  Zupanich scanned her with a medical tricorder.  “Everything seems to be in order,” he said.

Garrett stepped forward.  “State your identity.”

It was a test, she realized as her eyes flicked to his face.  “Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One,” she replied in her most emotionless tone.

“Seven of Nine, state your purpose.”

“We are Borg,” she replied.  “Our purpose is the attainment of perfection.”  She tilted her head, regarding him coldly.  “Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.”

“I don’t think so,” Garrett replied with a smile.  “Soon, very soon, you’ll have a new purpose.”  He turned to Zupanich.  “Their link is complete, Doctor?”

“Yes,” replied Zupanich, who was scanning Chakotay.  “The nanoprobes have rewritten his neural pathways.  He no longer thinks of himself as Commander Chakotay, an individual.  He is ready to accept your orders, Admiral.”

“And this one?” Garrett asked, regarding Seven suspiciously.

“She also appears to be compliant, Admiral.”

“In that case, I think it is time for you to activate my neural transceiver, Doctor.”

Seven held her breath as Zupanich used a neurolytic emitter to activate the admiral’s transceiver.  She hoped that the transceiver would link to her Borg cortical node without allowing the admiral to see how human she actually was until she wanted him to.  Because the admiral was not Borg, because he merely had a transceiver implanted but did not have a cortical node attached to his brain stem, she thought that his ability to delve into her thoughts would be limited.  In a moment, she would know if her hypothesis was correct.

She saw Garrett jolt as the neural transceiver was activated, and then she heard his voice in her mind.  _Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, can you hear me?_

_I hear you_ , she replied, careful to keep her human thoughts hidden.

_You are no longer serving as tertiary adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One.  You are serving me.  You require a new designation.  Your designation is no longer Seven of Nine.  Your designation is Drone Zero One._

Seven fought back her human response, which was to yell that she served no one.  A good drone did not reply unless it served a purpose, so she said nothing.

_What is your designation?_ Garrett asked.

_Drone Zero One._

_Excellent, Drone Zero One._   Seven could feel Garrett’s satisfaction reverberate through the link.  _This will be your designation from now on._ Then, Garrett turned to Zupanich and gestured to Chakotay.  “Wake him.”

Zupanich activated Chakotay’s regeneration alcove, and Chakotay’s eyes opened.  Seven could feel him join the link as he became conscious, but his mind was a blank.

She heard Garrett tell Chakotay that his designation was Drone Zero Two, and had Chakotay repeat the designation back to him.  Then Garrett turned back to Seven.  _Drone Zero One, what is the status of Drone Zero Two?_

_Drone Zero Two is functioning within acceptable parameters._

Garrett smiled at Zupanich.  “I think they are ready for their first orders.”  He tapped his comm badge.  “Commander Teral, do the secondary plasma manifolds still need to be repaired?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Teral’s voice came back over the comm.  “I was going to assign Korilak and Benson to do it.”

“That won’t be necessary, Commander.  I have just the repair team in mind.  Garett out.”  He turned back to the doctor.  “Now we’ll see if you managed to program those nanoprobes correctly, wiping their personalities but maintaining all their technical knowledge.”

_Drone Zero One_ , Garrett’s voice said, _take Drone Zero Two to deck fifteen and repair the secondary plasma manifolds at junction 517 alpha._ Seven provided Garrett with the mental acknowledgement that she had heard and understood the order, and she left the bay, Chakotay following close behind.

It was the first time she’d had free reign of the station since their arrival, and she was determined to make the most of it.  She was certain that Garrett was watching them via video monitor, as well as monitoring their response to his orders through the connection he had to them via neural transceiver.  Seven thought that Garrett’s own desire to remain an individual while forcing others to exist in a subservient collective would be his undoing.  Had he been willing to become a complete member of the collective himself, he would know her thoughts.  This would be the fatal error in his plan, his desire to force upon others that which he was unwilling to undertake himself.

They appeared to be on a standard Federation starbase, although there was still no indication as to their exact location.  Perhaps she would be able to gain more information once she accessed the station’s computer.  But she knew she had to bide her time.  Losing Garrett’s trust as soon as she had gained it would buy her nothing.  She and Chakotay had to complete the task he had set for them as efficiently as possible.  It was a menial task that could easily be completed by any station personnel; Seven knew it was a test.

She and Chakotay arrived at the secondary plasma manifolds and immediately set to work.  They worked together seamlessly, moving around each other effortlessly, sharing each other’s knowledge of the minor system and the best way to repair it.  A small part of Seven felt nostalgia for the efficiency of the Borg Collective.  But then she remembered how much had been lost in the subjugating of the individual to the collective, and she didn’t feel so nostalgic anymore.  The task was complete in under an hour, and she could feel through the neural interlink that Garrett was pleased. 

_Drones Zero One and Zero Two,_ Garrett sent, _your task is finished for today.  Return to your alcoves and regenerate._

As they walked back to their regeneration alcoves, Seven glanced at Chakotay.  He stared straight ahead as he walked, his expression vacant, and Seven felt a physical pain in her chest.  He was a vibrant, intelligent man, and she could not bear to see him reduced to a mindless drone.  _Chakotay?_ she reached out to him.

But there was no response, no recognition of her at all, only a blank stare as he continued to walk through the corridor.  Seven felt a cold fear settle in the pit of her stomach, and momentarily wished she truly possessed the Borg emotional detachment that she portrayed to Garrett.  Deep within, she was desperately afraid that the Chakotay she knew was already gone forever.  


* * *

  
_“We are Borg,” said the pale Chakotay-like drone.  “You will be assimilated.”_  
_Kathryn watched in horror as a mechanical implant sprouted from the drone’s cheek, and his hand reached for hers, assimilation tubules extending into her own hand…_  
  
“Captain?  Captain, are you awake?”

Janeway’s eyes snapped open, and she realized that the horrific images that still lingered in her mind’s eye had been a dream.  “I’m sorry, B’Elanna,” she said.  “I came back here to close my eyes for a minute.  I guess I must have drifted off.”  She slid off the bunk.

“Are you all right, Captain?”

“Yes, I’m fine.  Report.”

“We’ve arrived at the coordinates you gave us.”

“Have you detected large concentrations of tetryon particles?” Janeway asked as she fell into step beside Torres and they headed to the _Delta Flyer_ ’s bridge.

“The region has several naturally occurring pockets of tetryon particles.  This makes it a perfect hiding place for a cloaked vessel of some kind.”

“For all we know, Garrett’s secret base could be on a planet,” Janeway said as she strode onto the bridge.  On the view screen were several masses of tetryon particles.  

“These are the concentrations of tetryon particles we have detected at close range,” said Tuvok.

“Are any of them on the surface of a planet?” Janeway asked.

“No,” Tuvok replied.

“So it must be a ship,” Janeway said.  “Run a tachyon sweep over those regions.  That should help us differentiate the naturally occurring particles from ones generated by a cloaking field.”  Janeway’s train of thought was interrupted by the beeping of a console.

“Tom, it’s an incoming transmission,” said Kim, “from your father.”

“Shit!  I was hoping we had another day or two,” replied Paris.  “Don’t answer.”

“He’ll send out a search party if he thinks something happened to you,” Janeway warned.  “We knew this would happen eventually.”

“We just need enough time to get Seven and Chakotay out of there without alerting anyone at Starfleet that might contact Admiral Garrett,” said Kim.

“I can send back a garbled transmission,” said B’Elanna.  “It will look like we’re trying to answer but that there’s too much interference.  We can send a subspace message telling him we got stuck in a plasma storm or something, and that we’ll be home in a couple of days.”

“Good idea,” Paris agreed.  

“We will not be ‘home in a couple of days,’” Tuvok corrected them.

“I know that, Tuvok,” replied Paris, “but once we have Chakotay and Seven back, I’ll call my father and tell him everything.”

“Once we can expose Admiral Garrett to the rest of the admiralty,” Janeway added.

“I’m going to send the message,” said B’Elanna.  “Hopefully your dad will buy it.”

Paris nodded.  “Hopefully.”

“Captain,” said Tuvok, “I have isolated what appears to be a large cloaked mass.  It is too large to be a vessel.  I believe it is a cloaked space station.”

“Any indication they’ve detected us?” Janeway asked.

“No, Captain.  The large concentrations of tetryon particles make hiding the cloaked station easy, but they also make detecting approaching vessels more difficult.”

“What about the status of their shields?”

“Their shields are down,” said Tuvok.

“They don’t know we’re coming,” murmured B’Elanna.

“Good,” Janeway said.  “Tom, move us closer to one of the concentrations of tetryon particles.  That should mask our presence from the station’s sensors.”

“Aye, Captain.”  Tom slowly piloted the Flyer closer to the nearest concentration of tetryon particles.

“Can we transport from here?” Janeway asked.

“We are within range,” replied Tuvok.

“Good.  Tuvok, Torres, Doctor, you’re with me.  Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Paris, you’ll remain aboard the _Flyer_.”  She paused.  “Don’t go anywhere, gentlemen.  You’re our only way out.”

“We’ll be here, Captain,” said Paris.

“I suggest that we maintain communications silence once we have transported to the station,” Tuvok said.  “The station’s sensors may pick up an unauthorized transmission.”

“Agreed.”  Janeway looked at Paris and Kim.  “We’ll contact you once we have Chakotay and Seven, but you won’t hear from us before then.”

“Unless we’re in big trouble,” B’Elanna added wryly.

“Captain, the cloak prevents us from getting an accurate scan of the interior of the station,” said Kim.  “We won’t know for sure if we’re beaming you into a vacant area or not.”

“We’ll just have to take our chances, then, won’t we?” Janeway replied, arming herself with a phaser rifle.  Torres and Tuvok did the same.

Tom stepped closer to his wife and gave her a quick kiss.  “Be safe,” he whispered.  “And bring Chakotay and Seven back safe, too.”

“We will,” B’Elanna replied, squeezing his hand before turning her full attention to the mission ahead.

“With the interference from the tetryon particles, the transport might take longer than usual,” Kim warned.  

Janeway nodded.  “Energize.”

Harry was right, the transport took longer than usual, but after a moment, Janeway, Tuvok, Torres and the Doctor found themselves in an unfamiliar corridor.  Thankfully, it was deserted.  Nevertheless, Janeway kept her phaser rifle at the ready, and pressed her back up against the corridor wall, listening intently for the sound of footsteps approaching.  The corridor was silent.  “Program your tricorders to mask your biosignatures,” Janeway ordered.

Tuvok flipped open his tricorder, and after following Janeway’s order, he extended it to scan the area.  “There are approximately a hundred and twenty life signs aboard the station,” he said.  “Mostly human.”  He paused.  “One Romulan.”

“Romulan?” Janeway asked.  “That's interesting.”  Braxton hadn't said anything about Romulans, but maybe Garrett hadn't worked with the Romulans in the other timeline.

“I am picking up Seven of Nine’s life sign,” said the EMH, who also had a tricorder open.

Fortunately for them, Seven’s unique combination of human and Borg physiology made her life sign easy to pick out among other humans.  “Location?” Janeway asked.

“This way,” the Doctor replied, gesturing down a corridor.

“I am also picking up a large concentration of Borg technology,” said Tuvok, “in the opposite direction.”

“We’ll split up,” Janeway said.  “Doctor, you're with me.  We’ll go after Seven.  Tuvok, Torres, check out the Borg technology.”  She paused.  “If you encounter any Starfleet officer who has been turned into a drone, stun them.  Don't kill them.  I believe that with the research we've done, we’ll be able to sever them from Garrett’s collective and restore them to themselves.”

“And what about Garrett’s arsenal of Borg technology?” Torres asked.  “Should we destroy it?”

“Only if you can be sure that destroying it won't prevent us from severing Garrett’s drones from his collective.  And only after making detailed documentation.  I don't want to leave any doubt in Starfleet’s mind about how evil Garrett really is.”

Torres nodded.  “Aye, Captain.”

“We’ll have to maintain communications silence,” Janeway said, “or even the dampening fields that mask our bio-signatures won't prevent us from being detected.”  She looked at Tuvok and Torres.  “Good luck.”    

“You, too, Captain,” said Torres.

Torres and Tuvok set off in one direction and Janeway nodded to the Doctor.  “Let’s go.”  


* * *

  
“Tom, relax!” Harry admonished his friend, who was pacing back and forth across the _Flyer_ 's cockpit.  “You're making me dizzy.”

“Sorry.”  Tom flopped into the chair beside Harry.  “You're lucky, Harry.  No attachments, no wife and kid to worry about.  Free as a bird.”

“You don't mean that.”

Tom shrugged.  “Sure I do.  Just look at how easy it was for you to get away.  I had to lie to my father, leave my daughter light years away, and now…”  Tom trailed off.

“You're worried about them,” Harry said.  “I understand.”

The communications console in front of them beeped, and the two men shared a worried glance.  But it wasn't a communication from the away team on the cloaked station.  Harry looked at the message and then looked at Tom.  “It's from your father.  It's encrypted.”

Tom sighed.  “Play it back.”

Admiral Owen Paris appeared on the view screen.  “Tom, I received your message about the plasma storm.  What's going on?  The _Flyer_ has deviated from the flight plan you filed, and no Federation ship has you on their sensors.  And I don't think you took Ensign Kim or _Voyager_ ’s EMH with you on a romantic trip with your wife.  I don't appreciate being lied to, son.  Or if you're in some kind of danger…”  He paused.  “I'm sending out a search party.  Your mother and I love Miral but we don't want her to grow up without parents.  I hope you're all right, son, that's all I can say, and that you receive this message.”

Tom let out a long exhale.  “Oh boy.  He's mad.”

“He's worried about you,” Harry replied.  “Just like you’re worried about B’Elanna and Miral.  Why didn't you just tell him the truth?”

“I couldn't risk word getting back to Starfleet Command.  You heard what the captain said about Garrett, he could have eyes and ears anywhere.”

“But surely you don't think that your dad…”

“No, of course not.  But one of his aides?  Someone passing in the hallway who overheard something?  Nothing about this could be official, Harry, don't you understand?”  Tom paused, grimacing at the view screen which was now showing the Starfleet emblem.  “But a search party isn't exactly what I bargained for, either.”

“Should we contact him now and tell him the truth?”

“We have to give Captain Janeway a little more time.  By the time any search party arrives, hopefully we’ll have irrefutable proof of Admiral Garrett’s duplicity.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed reluctantly.  He drummed his fingers against the console, hoping his decision to go along with Tom’s unorthodox plan wasn’t one he was going to regret.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

  **V.**

* * *

  
“What’s your progress, Admiral Garrett?” asked the severe voice of the female standing across the desk from him.  “I expected your experiments to be done weeks ago.”

Garrett exhaled in an exasperated sigh.  “Commander Teral, you know that finding adequate test subjects has taken longer than originally planned, and gaining access to Seven of Nine couldn’t be rushed.  This is a delicate operation and it has to be handled accordingly.  If you can’t understand that, then perhaps it is time to end our partnership.”

“Yes,” Teral agreed.  “Perhaps it is.  And I’ll take the cloaking technology that hides your station from the rest of the Federation with me when I go.”  

Garrett winced.  Sometimes he forgot that the Romulan commander could be just as cunning as he was.  “That won’t be necessary, Commander.”

Teral crossed her arms over her grey military uniform.  “The Tal Shiar doesn’t like to be kept waiting, Admiral Garrett.  Perhaps what you need is a little motivation.”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary.”  Garrett had heard stories about the Tal Shiar’s motivational tactics, and they weren’t something he cared to experience himself.  “Besides, I’m not sure how much ‘motivation’ you could provide.  We both know the Romulan Empire was severely weakened by the Dominion War, and all my intelligence indicates that you haven’t recovered.”

Teral’s eyes narrowed.  “Don’t doubt the power of the Tal Shiar to offer motivation, Admiral.  We may have lost some operatives during the war, but that hasn’t reduced our ability to be ruthless.”

“All the same, Commander,” Garrett said, sitting back in his chair, “you have to admit we need each other.  I need your cloaking technology to hide the station until my project is complete.  And you need the results of my project to rebuild your empire.”

“You speak the truth, Admiral.”  Teral gave Garrett a long look.  “At least for now.”

The admiral’s comm beeped.  “Zupanich to Garrett.”

“Garrett here.”

“I’m ready to add the next two drones to the collective.”

Garrett smiled a thin smile.  “Excellent.  I’m on my way.”  he ended the call and turned his attention back to Teral.  “You see, Commander?” he asked.  “Now that we’re on our way, everything is progressing just as we had hoped.  In a few weeks, I’ll have my collective working for me, and you’ll have the technology you need to create a Romulan collective of your own.”

Teral leveled Garrett with a stare.  “Let’s hope so, Admiral, for both our sakes.”  


* * *

  
Janeway and the Doctor crept along the corridor, Seven’s bio-sign looming closer and closer on the tricorder.  They had managed to evade passing officers and had ducked into Jefferies Tubes and turbolifts as they had followed the signal to Seven of Nine.  Now, they stood outside a door.  “Seven is in this room,” the EMH whispered.  “There are five other human life signs inside.”

Janeway looked over the Doctor’s shoulder at his tricorder.  The life signs were grouped together on the opposite side of the room.  She hoisted up her phaser rifle.  “They aren’t expecting intruders.  We can use that to our advantage.”

The Doctor nodded, and the door swished open, revealing a sickbay.  Garrett and Zupanich were standing over a biobed.  Seven of Nine was next to them, along with a man in a Starfleet security uniform.  A nurse hovered nearby.  Before anyone inside the room knew what was happening, Janeway was pointing her phaser rifle at Garrett.  “Admiral Garrett.”

He whirled around, and Janeway had the satisfaction of seeing the admiral’s shock.  “You!  What the…”

“Let Seven of Nine come with us, and no one gets hurt,” she said.

“How did you…” Garrett began, but he stopped mid-sentence and looked at Zupanich and then at Seven.  He recovered from his momentary surprise.  “Captain Janeway,” he began again, “I'm surprised to see you here.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “How did you find us?”

“A little help from a confidential source,” she replied, hoping to arouse Garrett’s suspicion that one of his people had betrayed him.  “Now, let Seven go.”

“Ah, my dear captain,” said Garrett in a patronizing tone, “I believe you're too late.  You see, Seven is no longer Seven.”

Janeway looked at Seven closely for the first time since entering the room.  Her expression was blank, and her eyes showed no recognition.  “No,” Janeway whispered.

“Dr. Zupanich, perhaps you'd like to explain to the good captain and her companion,” Garrett suggested.  “Voyager’s EMH,” Garrett said, looking the Doctor over.  “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

“What have you done to Seven?” the Doctor asked, glaring at Garrett.

“I’m happy to explain it to you, Doctor,” replied the chubby, balding doctor standing next to the admiral.  “I've reactivated Seven’s myo-neural cortical array,” he said smugly.  “Her Borg circuitry has taken over.  She is no longer the human individual that you knew.”

“State your designation,” Garrett said to Seven.

“My designation is Drone Zero One,” she replied.

“I don't care what you've done to her,” Janeway spat.  “Let her go or I'll shoot.”  Her finger hovered over the phaser rifle’s trigger.

While Zupanich and Garrett focused on Janeway for a moment, the Doctor looked closely at Seven.  He knew that what Zupanich was saying was impossible; he had worked with Seven to ensure that no one would ever be able to use her Borg circuitry to override her human free will again.  For one second, Seven met his eyes.  She blinked twice in rapid succession, and the EMH knew that Zupanich was wrong; Seven’s Borg circuitry hadn’t taken over, but for some reason, she obviously wanted Zupanich and Garrett to think that it had.  “Captain,” the Doctor hissed, unsure how to communicate this to Janeway without revealing Seven’s duplicity.

“You won’t shoot, Captain,” said Garrett confidently.  “My drones won’t let you.”  

“Drones?” Janeway echoed, feeling a shiver go down her spine.

Garrett and Zupanich stepped away from the biobed, and a second man in a Starfleet security uniform sat up on the bed.  He stood mechanically, seemingly unaware of the conversation that had been going on around him.  Looking at him more closely, Janeway noticed that both he and the other security officer had the same blank looks on their faces that Seven did.  “Watch and learn, Captain,” said Garrett.  “There’s no need to give clumsy orders or to explain what you mean.  My subordinates simply follow my will without question.”

The two security officers walked in tandem so they were surrounding Janeway and the Doctor.  

“Haven’t you ever wished that your crew would enact your wishes without you having to explain your motives or reply to their questions?” Garrett asked.

“No!” Janeway replied  “I want to work with minds!  Minds that can invent something new, innovate, create, question my orders!  Not drones that obey blindly.”

“But watch how seamlessly they work,” Garrett said.  In the blink of an eye, both security officer drones were pointing weapons at Janeway and the Doctor.

“Drop your weapon, Captain,” one of the drones said.

Instead of following the drone’s command, Janeway pointed her phaser rifle at the drone and fired.  As he crumpled to the ground, unconscious, the other drone fired at her.  The blast from the drone’s phaser rifle sent a shock through her system, and she crumpled to the floor, unable to move her limbs, but still conscious.

The EMH stepped towards Janeway, but before he could help her up, he heard Seven’s voice.  “Stay where you are.”  When he looked up, Seven was pointing a weapon at him.

“You see, Doctor, my drones are most obedient,” said Garrett.

The EMH met Seven’s eyes.  Again, she blinked twice.  He understood.  She wanted him to comply, not to give away her secret to Garrett and Zupanich.  He froze, watching helplessly as Seven and the other conscious drone hauled Janeway up onto a biobed.  

“Doctor, you will make an excellent addition to my team,” said Garrett, “once I have you reprogrammed.  I’m sure Dr. Zupanich could use an assistant of your capabilities.”

“I think you’ll find reprogramming me easier to say than do,” the EMH replied.  Lieutenant Torres had installed several failsafes in his program, and he doubted any of Garrett’s men would be able to get around them.

“We shall see,” said Garrett.  “Perhaps I’ll have Drone Zero One do it.  Or would you prefer I refer to her as Seven of Nine?”

The Doctor did not reply, but watched Garrett with a glare.

Garrett turned back to Janeway, who was now lying helplessly on the biobed.  “And you, Captain.  I should have known better than to think you were cowed by my threats.  But now you’re here, and instead of defeating my collective, as you hoped to do, instead you’ll become part of it.”

“No,” Janeway replied, looking down at her limbs which still refused to move.  

“Dr. Zupanich, do you have enough modified nanoprobes for another drone?”

“I do,” replied Zupanich.

“Proceed,” said Garrett.  

“No!” the EMH shouted.  He lunged towards Janeway, but Seven turned her weapon on him.

“Stand down, Doctor,” she said.  The EMH froze, complying.  He had to trust that Seven would have the situation under control.

Zupanich was loading the modified nanoprobes into a hypospray when Garrett held up a hand.  “Wait.  Move away from the nanoprobes, Dr. Zupanich.  I think it’s time to show Captain Janeway just how loyal my drones really are.  Drone Zero One?”

Zupanich moved away from the nanoprobes, and Janeway watched in horror as Seven moved towards them.

“You see, Captain, not only have I removed all sense of individuality from Seven of Nine, but she is going to bring you into my collective herself.  Her will has been bent to my own.”  Garrett watched in satisfaction as Seven deftly prepared the nanoprobes.  “I had originally hoped to keep you away from here, but now I see that I couldn’t have been more wrong in my approach.  This is my triumph, Captain Janeway.  You, the champion of individuality, will become one of the first drones in my collective.”

“One of?” she asked anxiously.  “What about Chakotay?  Have you made him a drone, too?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be reunited with the commander soon enough,” Garrett said with a self-satisfied grin.  He looked over at Seven to make sure she was still following his orders and smiled when he saw she was approaching the biobed with a hypospray.

“Seven, don’t do this,” Janeway warned, still powerless to move her arms and legs.  “Doctor!” she cried, “Help me!”

The EMH took a step towards the biobed, but one of the drones shoved a phaser rifle in his path.  He could do nothing to help the captain; he could only hope that Seven knew what she was doing.

“Seven, it’s me,” Janeway pleaded as Seven’s face loomed over her.  “It’s Captain Janeway.  Please, don’t do this to me.  Listen to me, Seven.  You are Seven of Nine, a member of my crew.  You are not a drone.”  

Seven looked down at Janeway and blinked.  For a moment, Janeway thought she saw a glimpse of the Seven of Nine she knew, but then she felt a hypospray pressed against her neck.  Her last thought before everything went black was that she had failed.  She had failed Chakotay.  She had failed Seven.  She had failed Braxton.  She had failed all humanity, and the future of individualism was in jeopardy.  


* * *

  
Tuvok and Torres had managed to make it through the corridors without major incident.  They’d had to stun an unsuspecting officer who crossed their path and had stuffed his body into a Jefferies Tube.  They hoped they would be gone before he awoke and had a chance to warn anyone else about intruders.

“The Borg signatures are coming from this room,” said Tuvok as they approached a doorway.  “There is also one human life sign.”    

When they entered the room, they saw it was a modified cargo bay lined with a dozen Borg regeneration alcoves.  Only one of the alcoves was occupied.  “Chakotay!” B’Elanna breathed.  She ran over to the alcove and prepared to deactivate the regeneration cycle.

“Wait, Lieutenant,” Tuvok warned.  “If Commander Chakotay has been assimilated into Garrett’s collective, we may not want to wake him.  He could alert Garrett to our presence.”  Tuvok scanned Chakotay with his tricorder.  “It seems that his neural pathways have been rewritten.  He has been injected with nanoprobes which appear to have created a myo-neural cortical array attached to his brain stem.”

B’Elanna looked at her friend.  His outward appearance had not changed, but his skin seemed a little pale, and the green light of the Borg technology cast an eerie glow on his features.  “Can we reverse the process?” she asked, walking over to the cargo bay’s computer console.

“The Doctor may be able to modify nanoprobes to repair the damage,” said Tuvok.

“We have to sever him from that collective,” said Torres.  “The Doctor can worry about undoing the damage later.”

“But we need to be within three meters of Admiral Garrett to activate the dampening field,” Tuvok reminded her.

“We’ll just have to find Admiral Garrett then,” said B’Elanna, her fingers working over the computer console.

Suddenly, Chakotay opened his eyes and stepped down from his alcove.  “Chakotay!” B’Elanna exclaimed.  His expression was blank, unlike the man she had known for so many years.  He showed no sign of recognizing her.

Tuvok pulled out his phaser and aimed it at Chakotay, but before he could shoot, the commander lunged forward and knocked the weapon from his grasp.  Tuvok grabbed for Chakotay’s arm, but Chakotay spun around and hit the Vulcan hard in the jaw.  Tuvok stumbled backwards as Chakotay reached for the phaser.  He fired it at Tuvok, and the Vulcan slumped to the floor, unconscious.  Then Chakotay turned back to B’Elanna.  “Step away from the controls,” he said in a voice that was barely recognizable as his.

“Chakotay, it’s me.”

“My designation is Drone Zero Two.”  He gestured at her with the phaser, and she followed his instructions, stepping away from the controls.

“Chakotay, it’s me, B’Elanna.  Don’t you remember me?  B’Elanna Torres?  You’re like an uncle to my daughter, Miral.  My husband Tom likes to joke that your life belongs to him.”  The drone did not reply, and she tried again.  “You’re not a drone.  You’re Chakotay.  We met in the Maquis.  Don’t you remember the Maquis, Chakotay?  Fighting against the Cardassians?"  His eyes still showed no sign of recognition.  “I’m here with Captain Janeway.  _Voyager_.  You remember _Voyager_.  The Delta Quadrant.  Captain Janeway.  Kathryn Janeway.”  Even mention of _Voyager_ and Janeway seemed to awaken nothing within the drone Chakotay.

“B’Elanna Torres,” the drone said, “you are an intruder.”

“I’m here to help you.”  She tried to step back towards the computer controls.

“Remain where you are,” the Chakotay-drone ordered.  “We must wait for the others.”

“Others?” B’Elanna asked.  “What others?”

But the Chakotay-drone did not reply, and B’Elanna had little choice but to follow his orders.  

A few moments later, a group of security guards arrived in the cargo bay.  Roughly, two of them grabbed her by the arms.  “Get your hands off me!” she shouted, struggling against them.

A third guard pointed his phaser rifle at her.  “Freeze!” he shouted.  Then, he tapped his comm badge.  “Commander, we have apprehended two intruders.  One is unconscious.  The other is in our custody.”

“Good,” a female voice replied.  “Take them to the brig.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The two guards who were holding Torres began to drag her roughly toward the door as she saw two other guards pick up Tuvok’s unconscious form.     

As they were escorted out, B’Elanna glanced back at the cargo bay in time to see the Chakotay-drone re-enter his regeneration alcove.  Obviously the drone had reported their presence to some higher authority.  As she and Tuvok were dumped unceremoniously in the brig, she could only hope that Captain Janeway and the Doctor had been more successful than she and Tuvok had been.  


* * *

  
Everything was dark, and the only sensation she could distinguish was pain.  Her mind couldn’t grasp what was happening, but then a voice cut through the darkness.  _Captain?  Captain, can you hear me?_

_Seven?_ Janeway was confused.  She was trying to remember where she was, but the memory was fuzzy.  She struggled to open her eyes.

_Keep your eyes closed, Captain.  You are still in sickbay.  It is essential that they believe you are still unconscious and that the nanoprobes are doing their work._

_Nanoprobes?  They?_ Janeway tried to piece together what Seven was saying, and slowly, it came back to her.  Garrett’s drones, Zupanich, Seven injecting the nanoprobes into her body.  _You did something to the nanoprobes before you injected me?_ Janeway asked.

_Yes.  While Garrett and Zupanich were distracted by their bragging to you, I reprogrammed Zupanich’s nanoprobes.  You will still feel the link to the hive, Captain, but the nanoprobes will not rewrite your neural pathways and erase your individuality._

_Seven, thank you._

_It is essential that Garrett and Zupanich believe their plan has worked, as they believe it has worked with me.  You must act as you saw the drones behaving and follow Garrett’s orders immediately and without question._

_I understand.  When will I feel the link to the hive?_

_Soon._

_How did you prevent Zupanich from erasing your individuality?  Were you able to modify the nanoprobes he injected into you as well?_

_No.  The Doctor installed failsafes in my neural circuitry some time ago, after I had been manipulated by the Borg, to ensure that my remaining Borg components could not be used against me._

_How have you kept your true thoughts hidden from Garrett?  Isn’t he linked to the hive mind?_ Janeway asked.

Yes, but only through a neural transceiver.  He doesn’t have a cortical node attached to his brain stem.  This is how we have the ability to hide our thoughts from him.   

Janeway felt a sudden pain lance through her mind, and she could not help but gasp and open her eyes.

_Relax, Captain_ , Seven’s voice in her head soothed her.  _Remain still.  You are now connected to the hive mind._

She stared at the ceiling of sickbay, fighting her instincts to move.  She heard a new voice in her head, a voice that seemed unaware of what Seven was saying to her.  _Welcome, drone.  Your designation is Drone Zero Five._   It was Garrett’s voice.  She fought to show no recognition or distaste.  _What is your designation?_

_Drone Zero Five_ , she repeated back emotionlessly.

_Very good, Drone Zero Five_ , said Garrett’s voice in her head, and then she felt his focus shift away from her.  

“Doctor, can you extract more nanoprobes from Drone Zero One?” Janeway heard Garrett ask Zupanich.

“Tomorrow, Admiral.  We must be patient.  The drone’s nanoprobes must replenish themselves before I extract any more.”

Garrett sighed.  “Is that really necessary?”

“If you want a continuous supply of the modified nanoprobes, yes.  It is.”

“All right,” Garrett said, almost more to himself than to Zupanich.  “I suppose I did find quite a prize for my collective today.”  He looked at Janeway and smiled.  “The others can wait until tomorrow.”

Janeway wondered and feared just how many more Garrett was planning to add to his collective, and then, what nefarious plot he was planning once he had an entire army of drones bent to his will.  Seven sensed her thoughts.  _We will stop him, Captain,_ she said.

_We must_ , Janeway replied.  

Janeway heard Garrett’s voice in her head again.  _You may retire for regeneration until I need you._

Janeway sat up, expressionless, and stood.  She heard Seven tell her, _Follow me.  We will go to the cargo bay now, where the regeneration units are._ The two women walked out of sickbay and down the corridor, flanked by one of the other security-guard drones.

Janeway connected the puzzle pieces as they walked.  The cargo bay with regeneration units was where their sensors had picked up Borg technology.  _Tuvok and Torres went to the cargo bay to investigate_ , she told Seven.

_They have been captured_ , Seven replied.  _It happened while you were unconscious.  I’m sorry._

_Are they…_   Janeway didn’t even want to complete the thought.  _Have they been turned into drones?_

_No.  They are in the brig.  You heard Garrett ask Zupanich to extract more nanoprobes from me?  He needs them to assimilate Torres and Tuvok._

_We have to stop him before he can assimilate them.  You may not be able to pull the same stunt you did with me again._

_Undoubtedly I will not._ Both Seven and Janeway made an effort to keep their eyes straight ahead and their faces expressionless as they entered a turbolift.  The third drone could not suspect anything abnormal about them.

_Where is the Doctor?_ Janeway asked.  The last thing she remembered was him being in sickbay before Seven had injected her.

_I do not know.  Zupanich took him somewhere.  I believe they are trying to rewrite his program._ Seven’s thoughts were tinged with worry.

_We’ll find him, Seven,_ Janeway assured her.  Her head was pounding.  _Will this headache ever go away?_ she asked.

_Your link to the hive mind is growing stronger_ , was Seven’s only reply.

_Yes, I can sense the presence of three others._

_The two drones from sickbay, and Chakotay,_ Seven replied.

_Chakotay!_

_You will see him in the cargo bay.  He is regenerating.  But, Captain, you should be warned, there is not much of his mind left.  His neural pathways have been rewritten by the nanoprobes._

_He’s still there, Seven.  He must be._

Seven did not reply, not knowing what to say to Janeway.  She would have to see Chakotay’s condition for herself.

They entered the cargo bay, and Janeway had to fight not to react to seeing Chakotay’s form standing still in one of the alcoves.  His skin was pale, his eyes open but vacant.  He looked nothing like the man she knew.  It was as if his spirit had been taken from him.  She knew that she had been spared the same fate only by Seven’s quick thinking and ingenuity.  Each drone settled into their regeneration alcove.

_You can reach out to him, Captain,_ she heard Seven’s voice in her mind again.  _Don’t be afraid, Garrett can’t hear you talk to Chakotay any more than he can hear me speaking to you now._

_How do I do it?_ Janeway asked.  Seven had initiated all of their contact, and she wasn’t sure she knew how.

_Feel each drone through the link,_ Seven said.  _Imagine the hive is a sea and each drone an individual fish swimming just below the water’s surface.  You can see where you are, and where I am.  Distinguish Chakotay from the other two drones.  Find his mind, bring it towards you, just above the surface._

Kathryn concentrated, picturing each drone as Seven had instructed.  Soon, she found it was easy to distinguish Chakotay’s mind from the rest.  _Chakotay_ , she reached out to him, but there was no response.

_Try to find his memories, Captain_ , said Seven.  _The nanoprobes haven’t completely rewritten his memory centers.  I was able to reach him once like that, said Seven.  I am going to leave you alone with him now.  I do not wish to… pry._

And with that, Seven’s voice was gone from her mind.  _Chakotay?_ she tried again, but again there was no response.  His memories, Seven had said.  How would she access them?  Perhaps she should start with shared memories, experiences they’d had together.

_Chakotay, it’s me, Kathryn.  Can you hear me?_ She heard no response, so she tried a recent memory.  She evoked the image of her standing in _Voyager_ ’s transporter room, wishing him and Seven all the best as they began their new life together, but there was still no reply.

She went further back.  _“So what would’ve happened if you hadn’t turned our deflector dish into a lightning rod?” she was asking him._

_“We’ve been down this road before,” Chakotay replied._

_“Have we?”_

_“You wanting answers to questions you shouldn’t ask.”_

_She wondered what he meant by that.  “But something did happen,” she persisted, “outside the normal space-time continuum.  It’s strange, thinking there’s a part of your life you don’t know anything about.”_

_“Sounds a lot like the future.”  They shared a smile and sipped their cider._

_Chakotay?_ she asked.  And this time, she felt… something.  It wasn’t a response, exactly.  It wasn’t a word or a sentence.  It was a feeling.  And the feeling was pain.  _Chakotay?  Hang on.  I’m here to help you.  Hang on._

The words evoked another emotion, and she followed the trail of that emotion, this time to a memory of Chakotay’s.

_“Don’t you die on me now, Kathryn!” he was shouting as he pressed his hands against her chest in rapid compressions.  “Breathe, dammit!  You’ve got to breathe.”  Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he pressed his mouth to hers, trying to breathe life into her._

_I’m here, Chakotay,_ she said, trying to reach him, but the memories were too intense.

_“Kathryn!” he shouted as he ran through the forest, heedless of the plasma storm that raged around him.  “Kathryn!”  He was looking frantically for her, and nothing could mask the relief that he felt when he finally saw her, kneeling on the ground, clutching a case of scientific equipment, using her body to shield it from the storm._

_He was standing in sickbay, looking at her still form on a biobed.  Sickbay was dark.  No one moved; no one made a sound.  He stood there in the dim light taking stock of her, looking at the Borg implants that still protruded from her skin, at the cold grey color of her face, at her bald scalp.  He moved closer to her bedside and gently pulled the medical blanket a little higher over her shoulders._

She paused.  She had not known he had been there, then, after her brief assimilation.  She did not know he had stood there looking at her, had not known how much he still cared.  She felt his mind slipping away from her and delved back into the memories.

_He was looking down at her unconscious form, again she lay on a sickbay biobed.  Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she propped herself up on her elbows, feeling his hands supporting her as she did.  “My crew!” she exclaimed worriedly._

_“Easy,” he assured her, his hand remaining on her arm.  “They’re sleeping.  No serious injuries.  Everyone’s all right, though you gave us a good scare for a while.”_

Now, experiencing the memory with him, she could feel how scared he’d truly been, although she had not known it at the time.  _Chakotay?_ she tried again.

She felt something from him, again.  It was a vague fear, and a deep pain.  She went back to the memory where she had first felt that response, the memory of the night he had burned out the deflector dish, and they had shared two bottles of Antarian cider.  She tried to access it again, but from his point of view.

_He was walking back to his quarters, a little drunk off the Antarian cider.  They had talked and laughed late into the night, but he was still feeling strangely lonely as he walked into his empty room._

Another memory surfaced.  

_He was looking at a much younger Kathryn Janeway, her hair still up in a tight bun.  Her body was pressed against his as he put a hypospray to her neck, and even when he released his grip on her, she did not move away from him immediately.  The electricity ignited between them, and he felt the stirring of arousal in spite of their dire circumstances.  Then later, he found himself looking at that same young Kathryn.  She was looking up at him with hopeful eyes asking him just how close they got.  He took a breath, and he answered her, “Let’s just say there are some barriers we never cross.”_

_As he sat in his lonely quarters that night, those were the words that ran through his mind._ And we never will _, he thought.  When he went to bed that night, the last thought that ran through his mind was,_ It’s over.  I have to move on.  It’s time to let go. _And he held that thought, in spite of the heavy pain it caused in his chest._

Kathryn felt an answering pain in her own heart.  _No, Chakotay,_ she thought.  _Don’t let go, not now, after everything we’ve been through…  Please, I’m here.  Answer me._ She waited.  She thought she felt a vague flicker of recognition, but then, it was gone.  


* * *

  
B’Elanna Torres paced back and forth over the length of their cell.  She was scowling.  She wanted to kill someone.  She wanted to kill Garrett and whoever else had helped turn Chakotay into a mindless drone.  She growled under her breath.

“You are expending needless energy, Lieutenant,” said Tuvok, opening his eyes from his Vulcan meditation to look at her.  He was seated calmly on the floor, cross legged.

“Aren’t you angry, Tuvok?” she asked.

“Vulcans do not allow themselves to experience anger.”

She growled again.  “Well I am angry, and I need to do something more than sit on the floor and meditate!”

“There is nothing we can do from inside this cell.”

“I know,” she admitted, slumping onto the floor beside him.  They couldn’t even contact Tom and Harry.  All their equipment had been confiscated when they had been captured.  B’Elanna shuddered.  She couldn’t get the image of Chakotay’s vacant eyes out of her mind.  “Do you think the captain and the doctor…”

Tuvok shook his head.  “Given that it has been over twenty-four hours since our capture, it seems likely that they have been captured as well.”

“Then why aren’t they in the brig with us?” B’Elanna asked.

“I do not know.  Perhaps Garrett plans to turn the captain into another one of his drones.”

B’Elanna shuddered, and then lowered her voice.  “If we could just get out of this cell for a few minutes, I could send a message to Tom and Harry,” she said, eying the guard who constantly kept watch over them.  She knew from watching carefully that there was another guard outside the door.

Tuvok nodded, keeping his voice low as well.  “We must look for the right moment.”

“Or create one,” B’Elanna whispered.  “One of the guys who guards the door is lazy.  Have you noticed?”

“The one who does the night shift.”

“Right.  He always leaves his post a few minutes early and comes a few minutes late, so at shift change, there’s only one guard.”

“You will only have a few minutes, at most,” Tuvok warned her.

“That’s all I need.”

“Hey!” the guard watching them shouted.  “Break it up in there.  Unless you want to share your conversation.”

“Sure,” B’Elanna said, turning around to face the guard.  “ _Qu'vatlh guy'cha b’aka!_ ”

“What the hell does that mean?” the guard replied.

“Look it up!” B’Elanna spat back.  “If you really want to know.”

“Lieutenant,” Tuvok warned, “it is not logical to threaten the guards.”

“Your friend has a bit more sense than you,” the guard told her.

B’Elanna’s instinct was to retort again, but Tuvok’s calm gaze held her back.  She didn’t want to ruin their chance for escape because of her hot head.  Besides, by her calculation, the changing of the guard would be soon, and that lazy guard was due to come on next.  She found a seat on the bench in her cell and tried to be patient.  Tuvok returned to his meditation.  Sometimes it was infuriating that he could be so damned calm, she thought as she drummed her fingers against the bench and watched him sit there with a serene expression on his face.

Fortunately, she was right about the changing of the guard, and soon, the one who had yelled at her was changing places with another guard.  She heard the one leaving say, “Where’s Ensign Alfred?”

“Probably on his way,” said the one coming on duty.  “You know Alfie.  He’s always a few minutes late.”

“The commander's going to get wind of it sooner or later,” said the first guard, “and she’s not going to like it.”

The second guard shrugged.  “That’s Alfie’s problem, not mine.”

“All right.  Goodnight, then.”  And they were alone with the single guard.

Tuvok opened his eyes and looked at Torres.  He gave her a small nod and then promptly collapsed onto the floor, as if unconscious.

“Hey!” Torres called to the guard, picking up on her cue immediately.  “Hey, you!  Get in here, I need some help!”

“What happened?” the guard asked.

“He just collapsed.  Get in here and help me!”

The guard deactivated the forcefield and hurried in to kneel next to Torres and Tuvok.  He reached down to feel Tuvok’s neck for a pulse when the Vulcan suddenly came to life, grabbing the guard and pulling him down.  “Hey!” the guard shouted.  “What the…”  He reached for the weapon on his belt, but before he could get it in hand, Tuvok grasped the guard’s neck in a Vulcan neck pinch, and the man fell unconscious.

“Grab his weapon,” Torres said as she hurried over to the console in the center of the brig.  Her fingers flew over the controls, accessing the station’s communications array to send an encoded message to the _Delta Flyer._   As she worked, she covered her tracks as best she could, wiping the evidence of what she had done from the system.  She had just completed the message when the door to the brig opened.

“Hey, Lieutenant, I’m here,” Alfie said.  Then he realized that his lieutenant was not standing at the communications console where he should have been.  Alfie reached up to tap his communicator, but before he could touch it, he crumpled to the ground, stunned by a blast from the weapon in Tuvok’s hand.

“Did you send the message?” Tuvok asked as he dragged Alfie’s body next to the other guard’s inside the cell.

“Yes.”

“Good.”  Tuvok activated the force field, trapping the guards inside the cell.  “We don’t have much time before Garrett knows we have escaped.”

B’Elanna examined the console in front of her.  “It looks like our tricorders and weapons are being held in a weapons storage locker on deck six.  We need to get them so we can mask our biosignatures from the station’s internal sensors.  We also need the forcefield generator, so we can disrupt the link between Garrett and his drones.”

“Agreed,” said Tuvok.  “I suggest we use Jefferies Tubes as we are less likely to run into any of Garrett’s men.”

They quickly located the closest Jefferies Tube hatch.  Tuvok pried it open and gestured to her.  “After you, Lieutenant.”

B’Elanna crawled into the Jefferies Tube and grinned.  They were back in action.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

  **VI.**

* * *

  
When two days had passed with no word from the away team, Tom and Harry knew something had gone wrong.  “They’ve been captured,” Tom muttered, “maybe even turned into drones.  We have to do something.”

“What if we blow the captain’s cover and ruin her plan?” Harry asked.

“We’ve given them enough time,” Tom said.  “Something is wrong.”

Harry nodded and was about to move over so Tom could take the helm when the console in front of him started flashing.  “We’re receiving a message from the station!”

“It’s about time,” Tom said.  “Put it through.”

“It’s text only,” Harry replied.  “Look.”

Over Harry’s shoulder, Tom read the encoded message from B’Elanna.

Harry looked up at his friend.  “What does it say?”

“They’re in trouble,” Tom replied, recognizing the code that he and his wife had agreed upon before her departure for the station.  “I told you something was wrong.”  He sat down in his chair, plotted a course for the station and was about to engage the warp engines when Harry’s voice stopped him.

“Uh oh.”

“What now?”

“I’m detecting two Starfleet vessels on an intercept course.”

Tom grimaced.  It had to be the search party his father had sent after them.  “Distance?”

“They’re still an hour away at high warp.  It’s the _Enterprise_ and the _Gryphon_.”

“I’ll send a transmission to them and explain what’s going on.  I bet they’ll be as curious about a cloaked space station as Captain Janeway was.  Maybe they’ll be willing to help.”

Harry looked out the view screen in the direction of the space station.  “Let’s hope they are.  Somehow, I think we’re going to need it.”  


* * *

  
Sitting impatiently in Dr. Zupanich’s office, the Doctor emitted a loud sigh.  He watched Zupanich enter yet another set of commands into his console and then groan in frustration. “It’s not going to work,” the EMH said.  “I’ve had a dozen failsafes installed in my program to prevent exactly this kind of tampering.”

“There must be a way to get around them,” Zupanich shot back.  “I could use someone with your expertise.  The help I have here is sub-par.”

“I’m not going to help you turn people into drones against their will.”

Zupanich stopped what he was doing and looked up at the Doctor.  “What if it wasn’t against their will?  Would you help me then?”

“I don’t know a single person who would rather be a drone than an individual.”

“Think of how much easier their lives would be,” said Zupanich.  “They’d have no need to make difficult decisions or decide right from wrong.  They won’t waste any time deciding what to eat for breakfast or how to spend their free time.”    

“But isn’t that what makes life interesting?” the Doctor asked.  “Aren’t the choices about what’s right and wrong what determine an individual’s character?  You’re stripping people of their defining characteristics.  How dare you do that in the name of medicine?”

“I’m improving their lives,” Zupanich replied, “making them more relaxed, more efficient, more safe.”

“On the surface, maybe,” the Doctor conceded, “but while you may be simplifying the lives of people you turn into drones, you’re taking away the real, lasting value of human life—the individual’s right to pursue his or her own happiness.”

“How would you know, Doctor?  You’re not human.  You’re just a hologram.”

“I may not be flesh and blood, but having the ability to choose my own path changed my life, and for the better.  When I was first activated, I was very much like one of your drones, but Captain Janeway encouraged me to expand beyond my original programming.”  He paused.  “The choices I’ve been faced with have challenged me at times.  They’ve even nearly destroyed me once or twice, but they have also enriched my life in ways I never thought possible.  I couldn’t have imagined, when I was first activated, the individual that I had the power to become.”

Zupanich looked at the Doctor, for the first time seemingly truly listening.  “Do you believe it’s possible for a human being to find true happiness, Doctor?  Does that exist?  Or is life all pain and suffering?”

“There can’t be happiness without pain, Dr. Zupanich.  No one can live a life devoid of pain and suffering, but…”

“You see?” Zupanich cut him off.  “That’s what I’m trying to eliminate for people, pain and suffering.  As long as people have to choose, they risk making the wrong choice.  They risk hurting themselves or others.”

“Is that what happened to you, Dr. Zupanich?  Did you make a choice that hurt someone?  Did someone else make a choice that hurt you?”  Zupanich dropped his gaze to the floor, and the EMH knew that he had discovered part of the other doctor’s motivation.  “No matter what happened to you,” the Doctor continued in a soothing tone, “no matter what you did, you can learn from your mistakes.  You can move forward and become better.  Taking away the humanity of others’ isn’t the answer.  It won’t change what happened.  I’ve lost patients.  I know how hard…”

“Shut up!” Zupanich yelled suddenly.  “You’re just a hologram.  You have no right to question me like this.  Now be quiet so I can concentrate.”

“You are a disgrace to the medical profession,” the Doctor replied softly.  “You should be stripped of your title and your license to practice medicine.”

“Why you…”  Zupanich stood from his desk and started to lunge toward the Doctor, as if to strike him.  

“That won’t do you much good,” the EMH reminded him.  “I am just a hologram after all.”

“Fine,” Zupanich muttered, falling back into his chair.  “Just shut up and let me concentrate.”

The Doctor did as he was told this time, relaxing back into his own chair and quietly observing Zupanich.  He wondered what could happen to a man that would make him decide that such evil deeds were justified.  


* * *

  
Kathryn stepped up into her regeneration alcove and tried not to let the distaste show on her face.  She felt used and exploited.  Garrett had made her, Chakotay, Seven and the other two drones run around the station for several hours, testing their ability to follow his orders.  The tasks had become increasingly complex, but the drones had worked together seamlessly, solving each task in record time.

In a way, the experience had made her feel more connected to Chakotay.  They moved around each other effortlessly, repairing damaged conduits and circuits and engaging in combat simulations on the holodeck.  There had been moments when it was easy to forget that his personality had been almost completely erased by Garrett.  But then she would look into his vacant eyes and realize that he was not the man she had known for more than seven years.  She closed her eyes and settled into her alcove.  She felt the touch of Seven’s mind on hers.

_Captain?_

_Yes, Seven._

_Are you all right?_

_I’m fine, Seven._ But she could feel Seven’s doubt through the neural link.  _I feel used.  What Garrett is doing disgusts me.  I almost wish I could be as unaware of what’s happening to us the way Chakotay is._

_You don’t really wish that, Captain.  Then your individuality would be erased, too._

_You’re right.  But I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.  We need to act, and soon._

_I agree.  Garrett is starting to trust us now.  I believe that the next time we are sent on an assignment, I will be able to get away and send a message to Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim._

_If you can get to a computer console, see if you can find a way to release the forcefield around the cell holding Torres and Tuvok.  Maybe you can find a way to contact the Doctor, too._

_Yes, Captain._

_We mustn’t tip Garrett off that we aren’t completely under his control until the last possible moment._

_Agreed_ , Seven replied.  She paused, and Janeway sensed her hesitation before she continued, _Captain, you and I will have a choice of whether or not to obey Garrett, but Chakotay won’t._

Janeway was aware of this, but hearing Seven say it brought the point home.  _It may come down to a confrontation,_ she acknowledged.  _If that happens, we are to preserve Chakotay’s life at all costs.  I have every reason to believe that the Doctor will be able to save him._

_Yes, Captain._

Seven had responded positively, but Janeway could feel her uncertainty through the link.  She tried to hide her own doubts and fears and fought the impulse to look across the bay at Chakotay’s regeneration alcove.  She tried reaching out to Chakotay again in her mind, but there was no response.  She feared that his individuality was being erased forever.

She reflected on the memories she had seen during her last connection with him, their dinner on the night he had burned out the deflector dish, and the image she had seen, through his own eyes, of a younger Kathryn Janeway pressed up against him.  She had never stopped wondering about that day and what he had experienced that he had refused to tell her, citing the Temporal Prime Directive.  Now, she realized she had seen at least a part of it.  

Somehow, he had gone back in time and encountered a younger version of her, but she had no memory of it.  She remembered hearing her own question through his memory, _“Just how close do we get?”_   The emotion that had flowed through him at her question had been intense.  He had looked down into her eyes, eyes that danced with flirtation and possibility, and given his reluctant answer.  The words had almost stuck in his throat, and he correctly read her response as disappointment.  

_Disappointment?_   Her own younger self had been disappointed.  Kathryn paused and thought about that.  The younger version of her, who had been engaged to marry Mark, had been disappointed to learn that her relationship with Chakotay never crossed certain barriers.  _And how do you feel now?_ she asked herself.

She didn’t know how to answer the question.  When Admiral Janeway had told her of Chakotay’s marriage to Seven in the other timeline, she had felt shocked and hurt, but that hurt had been overridden by her affection for Chakotay and her desire to see him happy and fulfilled.  She thought about B’Elanna’s comment about Chakotay’s relationship with Seven.  She thought about his own memories that she had glimpsed, all memories of his fear of losing her, and then the final moment when he’d realized that he had.  She felt the tears rising through her throat and the backs of her eyes but couldn’t blink, afraid to move lest she give away her autonomy.  

After everything they’d been through, had they truly, finally lost each other?  Chakotay thought he’d lost her and had decided to move on.  She’d taken his presence in her life as a constant, but she now wondered if she’d taken his devotion for granted.  She remembered his thoughts from the memory she’d witnessed: _It’s over.  I have to move on.  It’s time to let go._ He’d made that decision and she hadn’t even noticed.

_Chakotay…_ She reached out through her mind.  _We’ve been through too much together to let go now._   Their relationship had become an essential part of her, she realized.  If he was gone…  She didn’t even want to finish that thought.  Instead she continued to implore him, _Don’t let go of who you are.  Don’t let go of our friendship.  You’ve brought me back to myself so many times.  Let me do the same for you.  Listen to me, Chakotay.  Hear me.  Please._

But there was no response from his mind, not even a flicker of recognition.  And as Kathryn Janeway stood stoically in her alcove, pretending that she was an emotionless drone, a single tear rolled down her cheek.  


* * *

  
“This hatch should lead to the weapons’ storage locker,” Tuvok whispered, pointing at an exit from the Jefferies Tube.

“Without our tricorders, we have no way of knowing if it’s guarded,” said Torres.

“We must assume that it is,” said Tuvok.  “There is a high probability that Admiral Garrett has taken all precautions.  However, we have the element of surprise to our advantage.  Remain in the Jefferies Tube while I investigate the situation.”

Torres nodded, understanding Tuvok’s plan.  If there was a guard, he might think there was only one intruder, and would not expect her to be waiting in the hatch.  She hid herself behind the hatch while Tuvok jumped out.  

For a long moment, there was silence, and B’Elanna held her breath, listening for sounds of a struggle.  Then she heard an unfamiliar voice yell, “Huh?  What are you doing here!”  The yell was followed by the sounds of grunting and shuffling.

Tuvok’s voice shouted, “Now, Lieutenant!”

Torres leapt out of the hatch to find Tuvok struggling with the security guard, trying to disarm him.  “Hey!” she shouted.  The guard looked up, momentarily distracted by her presence, and Tuvok took advantage of the guard’s distraction to apply a Vulcan neck pinch, and the guard slumped over, his body landing on top of the Vulcan’s.  Torres hurried over and hauled the guard’s body off of Tuvok.  

At that moment, the door to the storage locker slid open.  Torres, hearing the sound of the door, shouted to Tuvok, “Stay down!”  She grabbed the fallen guard’s weapon and shot the second guard neatly in the chest.

Tuvok, back on his feet, dragged the second guard’s body inside the storage locker.  He glanced into the corridor, but there didn’t seem to be any other guards.  “We must hurry,” he said.  “The guards may have alerted others to our presence.”

Torres was already searching the storage locker for their instruments.  “Bingo!” she said, using one of Tom’s twentieth century slang words.  

Tuvok raised an eyebrow but did not comment on the slang.

“Here,” Torres called, tossing Tuvok his tricorder.  She grabbed her own tricorder and hid the field generator inside of her jacket, so that even if they were disarmed again, she would retain possession of it.  “We have to find the captain.”

Tuvok accessed a computer panel.  “According to Garrett’s logs, the captain has been assimilated.”

“No,” Torres breathed.

“We must sever Garrett’s link to his collective,” Tuvok said.  “It is our only chance to save the captain and prevent Garrett from growing his collective further.”

“We have to go back to the cargo bay,” said Torres.

“Yes,” Tuvok agreed.  “Have you activated the bio-dampener on your tricorder?”

“Shit!” Torres exclaimed, and hurriedly keyed in the appropriate tricorder setting.

“Several life signs are approaching this room,” said Tuvok, eyeing his own tricorder.  “I suggest we depart immediately.”

Torres nodded and hopped back into the Jefferies Tube.  With the bio-dampening function activated, the station guards might know they had escaped through the Jefferies Tubes, but they wouldn’t know for sure which way they had gone.

She crawled quickly, taking the first turn she could, hearing Tuvok right behind her.  She could vaguely hear the sound of someone opening the Jefferies Tube hatch.  “Maybe they went this way,” a voice said.  She crawled faster, Tuvok still behind her, and they reached another junction.  

“You go up, I will go down,” Tuvok whispered.  “If all goes well, we will rendezvous in the junction outside the cargo bay.  If one of us is captured, the other will still have a chance to succeed in our mission.”

Torres nodded.  “See you at junction fifteen gamma,” she said, and proceeded to scamper up the ladder as quickly as she could, hoping that she and Tuvok would be able to keep their appointed rendezvous.  
    

* * *

  
Angrily and without preamble, Commander Teral marched into Admiral Garrett’s office.

“Commander,” Garrett greeted her, sounding surprised by her presence, “I don’t recall you having an appointment to see me.”

“Do you have any idea what is going on aboard this station, Admiral?  Or are you too distracted by the little power trip you’re on while toying with your collective?”

“Excuse me?” Garrett replied.

Teral slammed a PADD down on Garrett’s desk.  “Look at this.  Tell me what you see.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed as he examined the PADD.  “I see my prisoners have escaped.”

“Our prisoners, Admiral.  And you’ve been too busy playing with your new toys to even notice.  I’ve had security teams tracking them, but so much of the station’s personnel have been assigned to your project that I barely have enough officers for a normal shift rotation.  Half of the men I have aren’t fit to be more than drones.  They’re idiots!”

“Relax, Commander.  The prisoners haven’t left the station, have they?”

“A security team tracked them to the weapons’ locker where their instruments were being stored.  They must have retrieved their tricorders and activated some kind of bio-dampening field.  They’ve completely disappeared off the internal sensors.  I think they might have gone into the Jefferies Tubes, but I don’t have enough men to canvass the entire Jefferies Tube network.  Our sensors have also picked up an approaching vessel.  I raised the station’s shields as soon as I noticed the prisoners had escaped, but it is possible, however unlikely, that they beamed off the station to their ship.”

“A ship,” Garrett mused.  “They must have used the naturally occurring tetryon particles to hide themselves from our sensors.”

“Yes.  The tetryon particles may camouflage the station but they also make approaching ships difficult to detect, as we knew when we chose this location for our station.”

"What happened to the ship?”

“We fired a few shots.  I don’t think we did any damage, but they retreated.  They’ve disappeared from our sensors again.”

“They’ll be back,” Garrett said.

“Perhaps with reinforcements.”

“Yes, but don’t we have our own reinforcements?” Garrett asked pointedly.

“Of course.  But engaging in a space battle is hardly the way to keep our presence here hidden.”

Garrett waved the comment away.  “We’ll deal with whatever ships may arrive however we see fit.  I outrank any Starfleet captain.  I can tell him the project is classified and order him to leave and keep his mouth shut.”

“And if whoever shows up isn’t willing to do that?”

“I’ll leave that in your capable hands, Commander,” said Garrett.  “But back to our prisoners.

“Yes, back to our prisoners.  They could be anywhere on the station by now if they didn’t find a way to beam back to their ship.”

“They didn’t beam off the station.  They’re Janeway’s people.  They’d never abandon her.  I know exactly where they’re headed.”

Teral crossed her arms over her chest.  “Is that so?”

“Of course.  They’ll be trying to steal my drones from me.  Sooner or later, they’ll end up in the cargo bay.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Teral asked.  “What if that’s not their plan?”    

“If that’s the case, Commander, I’ll allow you to deal with them however you wish.”

“Allow me?” Teral sputtered.  “Allow me?  It’s not up to you to allow me to do anything.  I demand that you release the full crew complement of this station to me in order to search for these renegades.”

Garrett shook his head.  “You forget that this is a Starfleet station, and that these personnel are under my direct command.”  He paused.  “Besides, I have much more entertaining ways in mind for dealing with our escaped prisoners.”

“Entertaining?” Teral’s interest was suddenly piqued.

“Yes, Commander.  If you’ll accompany me?  I’ve had enough of running battle simulations with my drones.  It’s time to test them in a real situation.”

The commander raised a slanted eyebrow.  “Janeway is going to arrest her own people for you?”

“Janeway isn’t Janeway any longer.  Drone Zero Five will do whatever I instruct it to, including the capture and assimilation of the prisoners.”

Teral relaxed.  “You’re right, Admiral, this will be an excellent test.  I look forward to witnessing it.”  She stepped aside.  “Lead the way.”  


* * *

  
“That was close,” Harry said, wiping sweat from his brow as the Delta Flyer sped away from the space station.  “No communication, no warning message, nothing.”

“I think firing at us was the warning message, Harry,” said Tom.

“What does that mean?” Harry asked.  “Are the captain and her team prisoners?  Have they all been assimilated?”

“What it means, Harry, is that we need reinforcements,” Tom replied as he piloted the vessel back into a haven of tetryon particles, a safe distance from the station.  “How far away are the _Enterprise_ and the _Gryphon_?”

“They’re in communications range.”

“Hail Captain Picard.  He and my father have known each other for years.  I’m sure that my dad asked him to come looking for us as a favor.  With his experience with the Borg, he’s sure to be sympathetic to our cause.”

“I hope so.  Hailing the _Enterprise_ ,” said Kim.  “They are responding.”

“On screen.”

Captain Picard’s face appeared on the _Delta Flyer_ ’s view screen.  “Lieutenant Paris, what are you doing here?  You’ve deviated significantly from your filed flight plan.  And,” Picard continued, raising an eyebrow at Kim’s presence, “it seems that your wife is not your companion.”

“Captain Picard, it's good to see you again,” Paris replied, turning on as much charm as he could muster.  “I can explain everything, sir, I promise.”

“It better be a good explanation.  You’re father’s not happy with you, and we deviated from an important mission to come looking for you.”

“It’s a very good explanation, sir.  But before I start, run a tachyon sweep at these coordinates.”  He nodded to Kim, who transmitted the coordinates of the cloaked station to the _Enterprise_.

Paris watched as Picard looked over his shoulder, and then he heard another voice say, “Captain, I am detecting a large cloaked mass.”

“If you look a little closer,” Paris said, “you’ll find that it’s a cloaked space station.  A cloaked Starfleet station.”

Picard narrowed his eyes.  “Explain, Lieutenant.”

“Have you heard of Admiral Vince Garrett?”

“Your father mentioned his name when he asked us to attempt to locate the _Delta Flyer_.  What does he have to do with all this?”

“He’s currently holding my wife and Lieutenant Tuvok prisoner on that space station.  They managed to escape for long enough to send us a distress call.  We also have reason to believe that the admiral is using Borg technology to create a human collective.  We came here with Captain Janeway to try and stop him, but she’s aboard the station now, too, either imprisoned or assimilated.  When we tried to approach the station just now, they fired at us.”

Paris and Kim glanced at each other, watching the screen as Picard cut the audio and shared a brief exchange with his senior staff.  Then the audio resumed.  “Do you have any proof of these assertions?” the captain asked.

“We’re sending over all the data we have, including files from Captain Janeway that explain her theory on what’s happening here.”

Picard cut the audio again, and Paris and Kim watched as he spoke with Lieutenant Commander Data, who, as an android, could absorb all of the data from the Flyer at lightning speed.

Kim looked at his friend with a grim expression.  “I don’t think he’s going for it, Tom.  We might be flying solo on this one.”

“Don’t be such a downer, Harry.  Give the man a chance.”    

Finally, the audio resumed.  “Do you have a plan of action, Lieutenant Paris?” Picard asked.

“If we approach that station again, we’re going to need more fire power than this little ship can muster,” Paris replied.  “Care to back us up, Captain?”

A ghost of a smile crossed Picard’s face, and he looked to his right.  “What do you think, Number One?” he asked.

“A renegade admiral experimenting with Borg technology on a cloaked space station at the border of Federation space?” Riker replied with a grin.  “Sounds like it’s right up our alley, sir.”

Picard directed his attention back to the view screen.  “The _Gryphon_ will be here any minute.  I’ll apprise them of the situation and instruct them to join us when they arrive, just in case your renegade admiral has any more surprises up his sleeve.  Lead the way, Mr. Paris.”

Paris looked at Kim and grinned, as if to say, ‘I told you so,’ and nodded his acknowledgement to Picard.  “Thank you, Captain,” he said.  “Laying in a course.”

“We’ll follow you in,” said Picard, cutting the transmission.

Tom looked at his friend and nodded.  “Here goes nothing.”  


* * *

  
B’Elanna glanced nervously behind her as she scrambled up another Jefferies Tube ladder, but she saw no pursuers.  As she reached the top of the ladder, she stopped in the junction, breathing hard and wiping sweat from her brow.  

She pulled out her tricorder.  It seemed that she had finally lost her pursuers.  However, she also had no idea where she was on the station.  She had completely lost track of her course trying to evade Garrett’s security team.  

She pulled up the station map on her tricorder.  She had deviated significantly from her planned route to the cargo bay, and she’d have to go up three decks and over a dozen junctions to get there.

She was about to close the tricorder and continue on her journey when a signal popped up on the screen that caught her eye.  It was the Doctor’s mobile emitter, and it was only a few junctions away from her current position.  It appeared that there was only one other life sign near him.

B’Elanna made a split second decision and crawled through the Jefferies Tube that led her closer to the signal.  According to the tricorder, the human life sign was directly between her and the Doctor.  She crouched inside the hatch and cracked the door open, listening closely.

“What was it that happened to you, Dr. Zupanich?” the EMH was asking.

“That’s none of your business,” another voice replied.

B’Elanna opened the door a little further.  She could see into the room.  It was a medical office, and the man seated between her and the Doctor was dressed in a lab coat.

“I think you’ll feel better if you talk about it,” the Doctor said, clearly trying for his best bedside manner.

B’Elanna looked directly at the Doctor, waiting until she caught his eye.  She pressed one finger to her lips.

The Doctor continued his conversation as if he had not seen her.  “Research shows that those who have undergone a traumatic experience…”

“Shut up!” the man yelled in response.  He stood, stepped threateningly towards the Doctor, and B’Elanna took advantage of that moment to fire, shooting the man in the back.  He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

“It’s about time you showed up,” the EMH said.

“We had a little delay in the local brig,” Torres replied.  “Where’s the captain?”

“She’s been assimilated into Garrett’s collective,” the Doctor replied, “along with Seven and Commander Chakotay.”

“That vile petaQ!” Torres cursed.

“Where is Commander Tuvok?”

“I don’t know.  We got separated.  We were supposed to rendezvous back at the cargo bay, but I detected your mobile emitter.”

“I suggest we find him immediately,” said the Doctor.  “Garrett and Dr. Zupanich are planning to assimilate more drones.”

Torres nodded.  “We have to help the captain and Chakotay.”

“And Seven,” added the Doctor, “although I don’t know how much help she really needs.”

“What do you mean?”

The Doctor explained his suspicion that Seven was far less susceptible to Garrett’s manipulations than she had led Garrett to believe.  “But I don’t know what she’s planning,” he said.  “I didn’t get a chance to speak to her alone.”

“If I know Seven, she’s waiting for the right moment to make a move.”  B’Elanna pushed Zupanich’s body aside and accessed his computer console.  She whistled softly.  “Garrett plans to assimilate the rest of his staff and then move on from there.”  She looked up at the Doctor.  “This guy is scary.”

“So is Dr. Zupanich,” said the Doctor, gesturing to Zupanich’s still unconscious form.  “He actually thinks he’s helping people by assimilating them.”

“We have to get to the cargo bay,” said B’Elanna.

“What about Dr. Zupanich?” asked the Doctor.

“I’ll set up a forcefield around his office,” said B’Elanna.  “When he wakes up, he’ll be trapped.”

“That’s where he belongs,” said the Doctor.  “In prison.”  The Doctor grabbed a medkit and added a few extra supplies he thought he might need while Torres set up the forcefield around Zupanich’s office.  “We’d better hurry,” he said.  “It won’t be long before one of the medics returns to sickbay and realizes something is wrong.”

Torres activated the forcefield and then gestured to the Jefferies Tube hatch.  “After you, Doc.”  


* * *

  
Tuvok reached the junction in the Jefferies Tube right outside of the cargo bay, and for the first time since leaving the weapons’ locker, he allowed himself to stop moving.  He sat back against the wall and took several deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

He flipped open his tricorder.  The bio-dampening field was functioning within established parameters.  He had no reason to believe that his presence had been detected.  He scanned the cargo bay through the hatch.  There were five drones inside; all appeared to be regenerating.  They were the only life signs in the cargo bay.

He lifted the tricorder to scan the surrounding area.  There was no sign of Lieutenant Torres.  She might have simply taken a longer route to get to the cargo bay, he reasoned.  Or she might have been apprehended by Garrett’s people.

Tuvok waited several minutes before he decided he didn’t have time to lose.  More of Garrett’s men could arrive at any moment, drastically reducing his chances of success.  He opened the Jefferies Tube hatch.  


* * *

  
Janeway’s eyes snapped open.  She heard a sound, which she instantly recognized as the opening of a Jefferies Tube hatch.  _Seven!_ she called.  _Wake up!_ A relieved sigh escaped her lips.  Finally, someone from her crew was here to help them escape.

The hatch across from her regeneration alcove opened, and Tuvok jumped out, weapon at the ready.

But before Janeway could react to Tuvok’s presence, she heard Garrett’s booming voice in her mind.  _Drones!  There are intruders aboard the station.  Apprehend them immediately!_

Chakotay and the other two drones instantly sprang into action.  One of the guard-drones pointed a phaser rifle at the Vulcan.  “Stop where you are,” said the drone’s emotionless voice.

Tuvok froze, his eyes darting from the drone to Janeway and Seven.

“Drop your weapon,” the Chakotay-drone ordered, brandishing a phaser, “or you will be incapacitated.”

Reluctantly, Tuvok complied.

_It’s too soon,_ Janeway heard Seven’s voice tell her.  Janeway forced herself to remain calm, despite her desire to jump to action.  Seven was right.  If they exposed themselves now, they might lose the chance to sever Garrett from the collective, assuming Tuvok even had the dampening field generator on him.  He had to be within three meters of Garrett to use it.

Janeway felt rather than heard the orders flow through her mind as she walked mechanically towards Tuvok and picked up his weapon from the floor.  She then proceeded to point the weapon at her old friend.  “Where is the other prisoner?” she asked, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.

“I do not know,” Tuvok answered, and Janeway knew he was telling the truth.

Just then, the doors to the cargo bay slid open, and Admiral Garrett entered, followed by a Romulan commander.  Janeway made the connection with the one Romulan life sign they had detected upon arrival.  

“I thought Vulcans weren’t supposed to be able to lie,” Garrett said in a mocking tone.  “Where is the other prisoner?”

“I do not know,” Tuvok reiterated, “and your asking me again will not alter my response.”

“That’s too bad,” said Garrett.  “If you knew, we might have spared you.”  Garrett turned to Teral.  “I hope you’re prepared to witness the full abilities of my collective, Commander.”

At that moment, Teral’s comm badge beeped.  “Bridge to Commander Teral.”

“Teral here.  I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Commander, we’re detecting two Federation vessels approaching the station, and a third on long range sensors.  They seem to have detected us through the cloak.  What are your orders?”

“Raise shields,” Teral ordered, “and wait for me.  I’m on way.”  She turned her attention back to Garrett.  “I’m sorry, Admiral, but your little demonstration will have to wait for another day.  I’m needed on the bridge.”  She turned on her heel and exited the cargo bay with two swift steps.

“Too bad,” Garrett quipped, “but she’ll have plenty of other opportunities to witness the force of my collective.”  The admiral looked at Tuvok with a sardonic grin.  “You should feel honored.  You’re among the first to experience the power my collective firsthand.”

As Garrett said the words to Tuvok aloud, Janeway felt a new order flow through her.  She raised her weapon and pointed it straight at Tuvok, her old friend.  The command she heard was, _Fire!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this chapter taking so long to post, but real life gets in the way. An extra special thank you to my amazing editor Mizvoy for taking the time to work on this chapter with me even while RL was crazy. Thanks to her for always challenging me to be a better writer.

* * *

  **VII.**

* * *

  
Harry Kim watched the cloaked space station on the console in front of him.  “If they didn’t know we were here before, they know it now.”

“Oh, they know we’re here.  The _Enterprise_ is hard to miss,” Paris said.

Over the comm, they heard Captain Picard’s voice broadcasting on an open channel.  “Cloaked space station, this is Captain Picard of the Federation starship _Enterprise_.  Please respond.”  There was no response, and Picard repeated his hail.

After Picard sent the message a third time, a lieutenant commander in a red Starfleet uniform appeared on the view screen.  “This is Lieutenant Commander Black,” the man said.  “What is your business here, Captain?”

“We received a distress call from the station,” Picard replied.

“I’m not aware of any distress call,” Black said.

Paris turned to Kim and shook his head.  “Bullshit,” he whispered.

“If you’ll give an away team permission to board the station, we can ensure that no one is in danger,” Picard said.

“I’m not at liberty to authorize that, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Black said, sounding more nervous by the minute.

“Who is your commanding officer, Commander Black?” Picard asked.  

“Um, well…” Black stuttered.

“I am the commander of this station, Captain,” a new voice replied, and on the view screen, Paris and Kim gasped when they saw a Romulan female.

“Who are you?” Picard asked.

“I am Commander Teral,” she said, “and this area is under surveillance by the Romulan Empire.”

“The Romulan Empire?” Picard queried.  “Then why are we detecting a Federation space station with human life signs aboard?”

“You are not in command here, Captain Picard,” said Teral, “and I am.  I suggest that if you and your friends in the smaller ship value your lives, you turn around and leave now.”

“Some of our people are aboard your station,” said Picard, “and we’re not leaving without them.”

“No one has been authorized to board this station.  If your people are on board, then they have violated protocol by being here.”

“Their violation of protocol can be dealt with through appropriate channels once we have them back,” Picard replied.  “If you’ll allow an away team to come aboard…”

“No away teams will be permitted on the station,” Teral cut him off.  “You and your companions will leave now, or I will be forced to open fire.  You have been warned, Captain.”

“The station is charging weapons,” Kim said.

“Shields up!” Paris ordered.  The _Flyer_ ’s shields came up at the same time as the _Enterprise_ ’s.

“A Federation space station firing openly on Starfleet vessels?” Picard said, maintaining his composure.  “When this gets back to Starfleet Command…”

Teral didn’t let Picard finish.  “It won’t get back to Starfleet Command, Captain, as you and your companions won’t live long enough to relay the message.”

“I think you’re underestimating us, Commander Teral,” said Picard.

“Perhaps, Captain, it is you who have underestimated me.  You leave me no choice.”

In front of Harry Kim’s eyes, the space station decloaked, revealing its massive size compared to the two small starships in front of it.  And then, before Kim could make sense of the sensor readings in front of him, two Romulan warbirds appeared off their port bow.  
    

* * *

  
_Fire!_ The order still rang in her mind, but Janeway hesitated.  She didn’t want to blow her cover, but she couldn’t bring herself to fire on her oldest friend.  

_Captain, you must obey!_ Seven cried.

Careful to shield her thoughts from Garrett, Janeway surreptitiously changed the settings on her weapon to stun.  She looked Tuvok in the eye, trying to communicate through her gaze that she was sorry.  She hoped she was not imagining the flicker of understanding in his eyes just before she fired.  Tuvok crumpled to the ground.  She could feel the surge of Garrett’s satisfaction.

“Oh, Captain,” he said smugly, “if only you could see yourself now.  You were once so strong, and now you are merely an automaton bent to my will.”

Janeway wanted desperately to turn her weapon on Garrett and kill him on the spot.  

_No!_ Seven insisted.  _If you kill Garrett before we set up the dampening field and disconnect him from the collective, we may never be able to sever the link.  We may never be able to save Chakotay._

Seven’s words penetrated the haze of anger she felt, and Janeway restrained herself.  

“Garrett to Zupanich,” she heard the admiral say over the comm.  “Garrett to Zupanich.”  

There was no answer over the comm, and Janeway felt a glimmer of hope.  Perhaps the Doctor had found a way to incapacitate Zupanich.

“Damn it!” Garrett swore.  “Where is he?  I need more nanoprobes.”  Garrett tapped his comm badge again.  “Admiral Garrett to security.  Have a team go to sickbay immediately and check on Dr. Zupanich.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply of one of the security officers.

Garrett smirked at Janeway.  “You, my dear captain, will be the one to assimilate the newest drone into our collective.”  


* * *

  
“Here,” Torres said, gesturing to the hatch in front of them.  “This is where I was supposed to meet Tuvok.”

The Doctor had his tricorder open and was scanning the area beyond the hatch.  “I’m reading several life signs in the cargo bay, including Seven of Nine and one Vulcan.  The Vulcan is unconscious.”

Torres growled under her breath.  “I thought Vulcans weren’t supposed to get impatient.”

“Perhaps he felt it was the logical thing to do,” the Doctor suggested.

“Either way, he can’t be any help to us now.  Is Garrett in the cargo bay?”

“It is difficult to distinguish one human life sign from another with all the interference being generated by the station,” the Doctor replied.  “However, if we enter the cargo bay, the drones will surely alert him to our presence.”

“Can you stir up some trouble?” Torres asked.  “Distract the drones and ensure they summon Garrett?”

“I’m a doctor, not a sideshow.”

Torres leveled a glare at the EMH.

“All right, all right,” he relented.  “I’ll create an incident to ensure that the drones will summon Garrett, if they didn’t already do so when Mr. Tuvok appeared.”

“I’ll need time to set up the forcefield and get close enough to Garrett to activate it,” Torres said.

“I understand.”

“I’ll be right behind you, Doc,” Torres assured him.

“Don’t wait too long,” the Doctor warned.  “I don’t want my program decompiled in the process.”

“Don’t worry,” said Torres.  “I’m right here.  Are you ready?”

The Doctor nodded, and Torres braced herself against the Jefferies Tube hatch.  “Three, two, one,” she counted down and opened the hatch.  


* * *

  
“Evasive maneuvers!” Harry shouted as the _Flyer_ ducked between the laser beams coming from the space station.

“I’m doing my best, Harry,” replied Tom as his fingers flew over the ship’s controls.  “Where’s the damn _Gryphon_?”

“It should be here any minute.”

“That’s good, because I don’t think even Picard can handle two warbirds for much longer.”

Harry took his eyes off the _Flyer_ ’s tactical display for long enough to glance at what the _Enterprise_ was doing.  Tom was right; the flagship’s shields wouldn’t last too long under heavy fire from two Romulan warbirds.  “Can’t we help Captain Picard with some kind of distraction?”

“We’re doing the best we can by drawing the firepower of that station!” Tom replied.

A third Starfleet ship dropped out of warp.  “Federation ships, this is the _USS Gryphon_.  Do you require assistance?”

“What does it look like?” Tom muttered under his breath.  Then he opened a channel.  “ _Gryphon_ , this is Lieutenant Tom Paris.  We could use all the help we can get.”  

Picard chimed in with orders for the _Gryphon_ to engage one of the warbirds, leaving the _Enterprise_ only one warbird to deal with.

The station’s firepower was massive, but its bulky awkwardness made it inaccurate and clumsy.  It had clearly been designed with stealth, not battle, in mind.  Picard drew the warbirds gradually away from the station while the _Flyer_ darted between the phaser beams coming from the large structure.

“It’s working!” Harry exclaimed.

“If Picard can get those warbirds out of range of the station, maybe we have a chance of getting aboard to save B’Elanna and the others,” said Paris.

Just then, the _Flyer_ shook as a laser beam glanced off the starboard bow.  “Shields at eighty-five percent,” Harry warned.  “Watch it!”

“I’m watching, Harry.  I’m watching.”

“Well, watch closer.”  Kim glanced at the tactical readout again.  “Tom, I think we better get over there and help Captain Picard.  The _Gryphon_ ’s shields are already down to sixty-five percent.”  


* * *

  
Janeway stood still.  Even if it meant blowing her cover, she would not help Garrett assimilate Tuvok.  She could only hope that Torres and the Doctor had somehow managed to incapacitate Zupanich and that they were now on their way here, along with the portable dampening field generator.

The seconds ticked by, and Janeway held her breath, fearing Garrett’s next orders, but before he could give one, the Jefferies Tube hatch opened, and the EMH leapt out.  “Admiral,” the Doctor greeted Garrett smoothly.

“You!  What have you done to Dr. Zupanich, you crazy hologram?” Garrett asked.

“Dr. Zupanich is unharmed,” the EMH replied, “although that’s better than he deserves.”

Behind the Doctor, Janeway could see B’Elanna’s head peeking out of the hatch.  As the Doctor continued to distract Garrett, Janeway saw Torres taking stock of the room.  She was manipulating a small mechanical device — the portable field generator!  Janeway sighed in relief, but her relief was short lived.  B’Elanna was more than three meters from Garrett in her position in the hatch.  She’d have to enter the cargo bay to activate the dampening field, and she would surely be detected before she could get close enough to Garrett to make use of the device.

“What is Dr. Zupanich’s dark secret, Admiral?  How have you used it to manipulate him?” the Doctor was asking Garrett as B’Elanna opened the hatch further.  She had obviously finished setting up the device.  She just needed to get close enough to Garrett to use it.  She jumped out of the hatch and rolled on the floor towards Garrett, but Garrett was quick, quicker than Janeway had given him credit for.

She suddenly realized that Garrett had been watching B’Elanna all along, through the eyes of his drones, including her.  She berated herself for her own carelessness, but then realized such thoughts were pointless.  Garrett would have seen Torres regardless, through the eyes of the security drones and Chakotay.  Garrett gave the order, and she raised her weapon along with the other drones.

Torres froze on the floor, partway through her roll, not quite close enough to Garrett to activate the device.

The Chakotay-drone stepped forward.  “Don’t move,” he said.

“Chakotay,” B’Elanna said.  “It’s me, B’Elanna.  I’m your friend.”

“Get up,” he said.  “Move over there.”  He gestured with his weapon in the opposite direction from Garrett.

Reluctantly, Torres complied.

“Commander Chakotay,” the Doctor tried, “You’re not yourself.  You’re under the influence of Admiral Garrett.  Let us help you.”

“Stay back,” the Chakotay-drone replied, still keeping his weapon trained on Torres.  Janeway’s weapon was also aimed at B’Elanna, while the other two drones had their phasers pointed at the Doctor.

“Chakotay…” B’Elanna tried again.

“Quiet!” he snapped.

Garrett regarded his new prisoners smugly.  “Lieutenant Torres, Doctor, I’m glad you’ll have the pleasure of seeing how efficiently my drones work.  Your captain and commander are excellent additions to my collective.”  He leveled his gaze at Torres.  “As will you be.”

“Over my dead body!” Torres exclaimed, lunging towards the admiral again.  Before she could get within range of him, the Chakotay-drone fired at her.  She ducked, evading the beam, and had to roll away from Garrett to avoid Chakotay’s second shot.  Crouching at the ready, her own weapon in hand, she looked at Garrett defiantly.

“Stay where you are,” the Chakotay-drone ordered.  “If you try that again, I will shoot you,” he said.  “This weapon is set to kill.  Now drop your weapon and put your hands up.”

Torres forced herself to relax and followed the Chakotay-drone’s instructions.  “Okay,” she said.  “Okay, Chakotay.  It’s all right.”

“Don’t call him that!” Garrett snapped.  “This is Drone Zero Two.  Chakotay is dead.”

“You’re a liar, Garrett,” Torres shot back.  “A liar and a criminal.  You’ll never get away with this.”

Garrett looked around the cargo bay and laughed.  “Oh, but Lieutenant, I already have.  Don’t you see?  You have no escape.  Your captain and your commander have already been turned into drones.  You’ll be next, just as soon as my team gets to sickbay and finds Dr. Zupanich.”

“Dr. Zupanich won’t be of any use to you at the moment,” Torres gloated.  “Your drones couldn’t stop that.”

Garrett glared at her.  “Dr. Zupanich may be momentarily incapacitated, but that’s not going to stop me.  Today, tomorrow, or next week, you will be turned into drones and you will serve me!”  

The two security drones moved towards the Doctor, forcing him away from Garrett and next to Torres.  The Chakotay drone kept his weapon trained on B’Elanna.  “On your knees,” he ordered her in the coldest tone she had ever heard from his lips.  “Now.”  

Fear and anger clearly visible on her face, Torres obeyed.  

Now, Seven’s voice echoed in Janeway’s mind.  Janeway saw Admiral Garrett’s head snap up.  “What the…” he started, and then stopped, frozen cold.

_Admiral Garrett_ , Garrett heard the voice in his mind, _this is Seven of Nine._  
    His head jerked and his eyes found the blue eyes of Drone Zero One.  _No_ , he thought back.  Y _our designation is Drone Zero One.  You are part of my collective._

_I am an individual_ , the thought came back to him.  _I have allowed you to believe that you and Dr. Zupanich succeeded in erasing my individuality, but you have failed.  Dr. Zupanich’s nanoprobes did not rewrite my neural pathways._

_No!_ Garrett replied, taking a step towards her.  _It cannot be.  You are the beginning of my collective.  You will obey me!_

Seven raised her weapon and pointed it at Garrett.  She spoke aloud, and at the same time, Garrett heard the words echo in his mind, “I will not comply.”

The cargo bay erupted in a melee of phaser fire.  Garrett’s drones fired at Seven, but she ran for cover behind a computer console, evading their blasts.  Janeway took out one of the security drones and ducked to avoid fire from the other.

In the confusion, the Doctor grabbed the portable field generator from Torres and leapt towards Garrett, activating the device.  

B’Elanna dropped to the floor, firing on the second security guard drone and rolling to escape a shot from the Chakotay-drone.

“No!” Garrett cried as he realized that he had been severed from his collective.  “No, they’re mine!  Mine!”

Frantically, Garrett raised his own weapon and began to fire erratically.  One of his shots hit B’Elanna in the leg, and she stumbled to the ground, crying out in pain.

As B’Elanna fell, Janeway had a clear shot at Garrett, and the admiral crumpled into unconsciousness as her beam hit him.  Janeway stepped towards B’Elanna, but before she could reach her, a chilling voice said, “Stop where you are.”  She looked up to see that the Chakotay-drone was pointing his phaser at her.  “Drop your weapon,” he ordered.

The tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine, and she knew that if she did not obey, he would shoot her.  She dropped the phaser.  “Chakotay, don’t shoot.  It’s me.  It’s Kathryn.”

“You are Drone Zero Five,” the Chakotay-drone said.

With the guard drones and Garrett incapacitated, the phaser fire in the cargo bay stopped.  Seven stood from her position behind the computer console and realized that the Chakotay-drone was pointing his weapon at Janeway.  “Captain!” she exclaimed, leveling her own phaser at Chakotay.

“Wait!” Janeway ordered.  The Chakotay-drone’s expression was confused and uncertain.  She reached out to him in her mind.  _Drone Zero Two, drop your weapon_ , she ordered in her most clear command tone.

Knowing nothing more than how to obey orders, the Chakotay-drone obeyed, and his phaser fell to the floor of the cargo bay with a clatter.  His eyes darted around the room, and his lip trembled.

“It’s all right, Chakotay,” Kathryn said in a soothing tone.  “You’re going to be okay.  You have to trust us.”  She extended a hand to him and stepped towards him.  “Take my hand.  Come on.”  Through the link she still had with him, she tried to send soothing, warm feelings, but what she felt back from him was fear and uncertainty.  She took another step towards him.

Like a frightened animal, Chakotay bolted, ramming into Kathryn and knocking her over as he passed.  She hit the floor with a loud thud.  

Janeway heard Seven’s voice cut through the jumble of emotions in her mind and looked up in time to see Chakotay freeze.  _Stop!  Drone Zero Two, this is Drone Zero One.  Do not move.  Remain where you are._   The order was clear and simple, and Chakotay obeyed.

“Doctor, can you sedate him?” Seven asked as she stepped towards Janeway and helped her up off the floor.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied, taking a hypospray from the medkit he had brought from sickbay.  “Help me.”  As the Doctor pressed a hypospray to Chakotay’s neck, Janeway and Seven caught him before he crashed to the floor.

“We’ll take care of him as soon as we see to B’Elanna and Tuvok,” said Janeway.

The Doctor was already kneeling next to Torres.  “Lieutenant, are you all right?” he asked.

“It’s just my leg,” B’Elanna managed through gritted teeth.

The Doctor looked at the wound.  “Nothing I can’t fix.”

While the Doctor busied himself with Torres, Seven manned one of the computer consoles in the cargo bay.  “The station is engaged in battle with three Federation ships,” she reported, “including the _Delta Flyer_.  There are also two Romulan warbirds that have decloaked.”  

The Doctor tended to Torres’ wounded leg and then revived Tuvok, pressing a hypospray to the Vulcan’s neck.  Janeway helped Tuvok up while the Doctor helped Torres to her feet.  

“We have to get to the bridge,” said Janeway, “and take command of this station.”

“Lieutenant Torres and Commander Tuvok should be in sickbay,” the Doctor protested.

“I’m fine,” Torres shot back, bending and straightening her leg which the Doctor had repaired with a dermal regenerator.  She picked up her weapon where she had dropped it on the floor.  “It’s time to show these bastards what we’re made of.”

“Tuvok?” Janeway asked, looking at her old friend with concern.

“I, too, am willing and able to assist, Captain.”

“Seven, can we get through to the _Flyer_?” Janeway asked.

“Communications are being jammed from the bridge, Captain.”

“Well, then, we’ll take the bridge and then contact Tom and Harry from there.  Doctor, take care of Commander Chakotay.  Remain here until you hear from us.  We don’t know if the station’s sickbay is secure.  Seven, set up a forcefield around this cargo bay so that no one can come in or out until we let them.  Seven, Tuvok, Torres, you’re with me.  Doctor, we’ll see you on the other side.”  She looked around at her crew and then at Chakotay’s still form lying on the cargo bay floor.  “It’s time to end this once and for all.”  


* * *

  
“Shields down to forty-five percent!” Kim shouted.  

“It’s that station!” Tom shouted back, over the din of the battle.  The Romulan commander had decided to initiate a new tactic; wide beam, sweeping phaser fire was nearly impossible for the Federation ships to evade while still battling the two Romulan warbirds.  “If we could just get close enough to disable their weapons…”

Tom’s sentence was cut off by another phaser sweep hitting the Flyer.  

“Thirty-eight percent,” Harry warned.  “Tom, can you fly us in closer to those warbirds?”

“Closer?”

“The Romulans won’t want to hit their own ships, will they?”

“All right,” said Tom.  “It’s worth a try.”  He flew in closer to one of the warbirds, trying to evade the Romulans’ weapons as he did so.  “What’s the status of the _Enterprise_ and the _Gryphon_?”

“The _Gryphon_ ’s shields are down to twenty-percent.  The _Enterprise_ is holding up better.  One of the warbird’s shields are failing.  Picard has them pinned down,” Harry reported.  

Off their port bow, the _Enterprise_ fired a photon torpedo at the failing warbird, and the ship exploded.  Tom let out a whoop of victory, but the feeling didn’t last.  The station launched another spread of phaser fire, and Tom flipped the _Flyer_ in a fancy maneuver to evade another hit.  “That was close!” he exclaimed.

“The _Gryphon_ wasn’t so lucky,” said Harry.  “Their shields are down, and the other warbird is moving in on them.”

“Fire on that warbird!” Tom ordered.  “Target their weapons systems.”

Harry fired, and then shook his head in frustration.  “Their shields are still up!”

The warbird moved into position to fire on the _Gryphon_.  Both Tom and Harry knew that this would be a fatal blow for the other Starfleet ship.  The _Enterprise_ was moving to intercept, but before it could move, the station launched a photon torpedo, and the _Enterprise_ was hit.  

“The _Enterprise_ shields are holding, but barely!” said Harry.  

The _Enterprise_ fired a photon torpedo on the remaining warbird.  It was a direct hit.  “That’ll show ‘em!” Tom exclaimed.

“That warbird’s warp core is going to blow,” Harry warned.  “I’m detecting transporter readings.  The crew is evacuating to the station.”

As Tom backed the _Flyer_ away from the warbird, a transmission cut through the chaos, broadcasting on all channels.  “It’s coming from the station,” Harry said.

“Stand down!” said a familiar voice.  The station stopped firing.

“Captain!” Tom shouted, a wide grin appearing on his face.

On the view screen, Captain Janeway appeared on the station’s bridge.  Tuvok, Torres, and Seven were all around her, each of their phasers pointed at a different bridge officer.  Janeway had her weapon pointed at the Romulan commander.  “I’d tell you to order your ships to stand down,” Janeway said to the Romulan, “but that doesn’t seem to be necessary anymore.”

The second warbird blew to pieces, and the _Flyer_ rocked slightly from the impact.  The Romulan commander gritted her teeth, clearly unhappy with the situation.    

Tom peered at the view screen.  “B’Elanna!” Tom said, “You’re okay.”

“Yes,” she said.  “You?”

“We’re okay,” Tom replied.

“Tuvok, put me through to the _Enterprise_ ,” Janeway ordered.

“This is Captain Picard,” Picard said as his image appeared on the screen next to Janeway’s.

“Captain, we need teams to beam over and secure the station immediately,” said Janeway.  “I have taken command of the bridge, but many of Garrett’s men still have free reign on the station.”

“The crew of the second Romulan warbird also beamed to the station,” Tom said.

“We need to secure the station as soon as possible,” added Torres.  “Who knows what Garrett’s followers will do when they find out he’s no longer in command.”

“I’ll beam over security teams immediately,” said Picard.

“We also have patients to transport to your sickbay,” said Janeway.  She paused.  “The nature of their injuries is… unique.  I’d like to send Voyager’s EMH aboard with them given his experience dealing with Borg technology.”

Tom and Harry exchanged a glance.  The captain and the others on the bridge all appeared to be fine, but Commander Chakotay was nowhere to be seen.

“I’d like to volunteer to go as well, Captain,” said Seven.  “I may be able to help the Doctor reprogram the nanoprobes.”

Tom watched as Janeway nodded her agreement and informed Picard that Seven of Nine would be beaming aboard the _Enterprise_ as well.  Nanoprobes — the word still sent shivers down Tom’s spine.

Picard turned to his bridge crew and ordered them to assemble the appropriate teams.  “We’re on our way, Captain Janeway,” he said.  “Picard out.”  Picard ended the transmission, so only the station and the _Flyer_ remained in communication.

“Captain, are you all right?” Tom asked.  “What happened?”

“It’s a long, strange story, Tom.  Just get down here, and quickly.”

Tom peered through the view screen and caught his wife’s eye.  He could see from the expression on her face that something was terribly, terribly wrong.  


* * *

  
As Kathryn Janeway materialized on the transporter pad of the _Enterprise_ , the exhaustion she’d been holding at bay threatened to overwhelm her.  The room spun around her, and her knees began to buckle.  Her eyes shut, and her arms flailed, searching for something to hold onto.  Two strong hands grasped hers, and a strong, calm presence steadied her.  She opened her eyes.

“Kathryn.”

She looked up into the steady gaze of Captain Picard.  “Jean-Luc.  Thank you.”

He released one of her hands and helped her down from the transporter pad.  “Lieutenant Torres and Commander Tuvok beamed aboard almost an hour ago.”

“How are they?”

“Dr. Crusher examined them.  They’re both fine.  No permanent damage.”

Janeway nodded, afraid to ask about Chakotay’s status.  He had been dark to her through the link for hours, so she knew he was still unconscious.  She could sense Seven’s continued worry for him.  

“You look like you could use a trip to sickbay yourself,” Picard suggested.

She did want to go to sickbay, not to be examined, but to check on Chakotay and Seven.  She nodded to Picard and followed him out of the transporter room.  “Commander Riker’s team is doing a final security sweep of the station now.  I’ve asked Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim to compile all the evidence they can for our case against Admiral Garrett.”

“We’ve detained the remaining crew from the station as well as the crew of the Romulan warbird.  They’re in our brig,” Picard informed her.  “They will all need to be questioned in regards to their actions here.”

Janeway shook her head.  The whole thing had the potential to turn into a disastrous scandal for Starfleet.  “I imagine the brass will do everything they can to keep this quiet.”

Picard grimaced; he had obviously had the same thought.  “Hopefully that won’t be an obstacle to convicting Admiral Garrett.”

“We’ll just need to build an airtight case against him.”

“We will,” Picard assured her.  “Your team has gathered a wealth of evidence.”

“I just keep thinking about everyone Garrett must have gotten around to make this project possible.  He claimed to me that he had sanction from Starfleet.  What if he did?”

Picard shook his head.  “I can’t believe that.”

“I couldn’t either, at first, but after seeing the resources he had on that station, I’m beginning to wonder.”

“Maybe his sanction came from another source,” Picard suggested as they stepped into the turbolift.  “Deck eight,” he ordered.

“Such as?”

“The Romulans.”

“How has Starfleet decided to handle the Romulan situation?”

“The Romulans deny all knowledge of Commander Teral’s activities here.  They claim that her last posting was to the Kolarin System just outside the Romulan Neutral Zone.”  Picard paused.  “I’m not sure if they’re telling the truth, or if Commander Teral is being thrown to the wolves to protect Romulan peace with the Federation.”

“What does she say?”

“Commander Teral has refused to say anything.”

“What about the other Romulans, the crew of the warbird?” Janeway asked.

“The Romulan government is asking for their extradition.  I already have my best people questioning them.  If it is determined that they knew nothing about Garrett’s activities aboard the station, we’ll grant the Romulans’ extradition request.”

“If their primary posting was aboard the warbird, I doubt they were privy to what happened on the station.”

“That brings up another question,” said Picard.  “Was this a joint operation?”

Janeway nodded.  “If so, was it instigated by Starfleet or the Romulans?  Or Admiral Garrett on his own?”

The turbolift doors opened onto deck eight.  “Hopefully we’ll be able to determine that by examining Garrett’s logs and interviewing station personnel,” Picard replied.

“I have a hard time believing so many Starfleet officers would willingly participate in such an evil project.  I hope they didn’t know what they were doing.  But Dr. Zupanich knew.”

“Zupanich isn’t Starfleet.  Commander Data discovered that.”

“Really?  Where did Garrett find him?”

“We don’t know; the doctor is refusing to talk.”

“That could be a problem.  We’ll need his testimony against Garrett.”  She paused.  “The station must be protected from tampering until Garrett can be tried and convicted.”

“Captain Dolath and the _Gryphon_ will remain here,” said Picard.  “And I’ve already had quarantine beacons put up around the station.”

“Of course,” Janeway said with a small smile.  “Who did you speak to at Headquarters?”

“Hayes.  He wants your report as soon as possible.”

Janeway grimaced.  “My coming out here wasn’t exactly authorized.”

“But you did uncover quite a plot.  Hayes seems willing to hear the evidence before bringing charges against anybody.”

She paused just outside the doors to sickbay.  “As long as Garrett and Zupanich are punished for their crimes, and Commander Chakotay recovers, Hayes can charge me with whatever he wants.”  She looked at the doors to sickbay.  She could feel Seven’s presence within, but Chakotay was still dark to her.  She stepped forward and the doors swished open.

Garrett was lying on a biobed surrounded by a forcefield.  The other two security guards who had been made into drones were also on biobeds, unconscious.  Chakotay lay on another biobed, Seven and the Doctor hovering over him.  Before she could approach him, Dr. Beverly Crusher greeted her, “Captain Janeway.”

“Dr. Crusher, good to see you again.”  Janeway’s eyes were not on the red-headed doctor, but on the biobed in the corner of sickbay.  “Excuse me,” she said to Crusher and Picard, as she walked past them to the bed where Chakotay lay.

_Captain_ , Seven greeted her through the link.  

_Seven, are you all right?_

_I am undamaged, Captain.  The same cannot be said for Chakotay._

“Doctor, what’s his condition?” she asked the EMH.  She stepped next to the biobed and looked down at Chakotay.  His face appeared serene.  If she didn’t know that his personality and individuality had been erased, she would think he was sleeping peacefully.  Her hand found his and squeezed it.

“I’ve extracted Zupanich’s nanoprobes from the commander’s system.  Seven and I have reprogrammed some of her nanoprobes to repair the commander’s neural pathways.”

Seven handed the Doctor a hypospray.  “Here, Doctor.”

He pressed the hypo to Chakotay’s neck and looked back at Janeway.  “You need to be examined as well, Captain.  I want to make sure Garrett’s nanoprobes haven’t done any permanent damage.”

“And them?” she asked, gesturing to Garrett and the security drones.

“We’re keeping them sedated.  After I complete Commander Chakotay’s procedure, I will remove the nanoprobes and myo-neural cortical arrays from the other drones and attempt to restore them to their original states with modified nanoprobes.”

“What’s Garrett’s condition?”

“Dr. Crusher removed his neural transceiver.  He is no longer connected to any of his drones,” said the EMH.  “He should regain consciousness in a few hours.  As long as he’s fit, he’ll be transferred to the brig then.”

“Where he belongs,” Janeway said.  

Seven ran a medical tricorder over Chakotay.  “The nanoprobes are working.  They are attempting to repair Chakotay’s neural pathways.”

The Doctor turned his tricorder towards Janeway.  “Now, Captain, please have a seat.”

“Doctor…”

The EMH gestured to an empty biobed, and Janeway reluctantly sat down while he ran the medical tricorder over her.  “Hm.  Exhaustion, dehydration, several minor contusions.  It’s a wonder you’re still standing.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

“I’ll need to remove the nanoprobes from your system as well, Captain, and the myo-neural cortical array.”

Janeway’s eyes strayed back to Chakotay’s still form on the biobed.  Seven was hovering over him, holding his hand, and she looked away.  The nanoprobes and the array were her only link to him.  “The nanoprobes and the array,” she asked, “are they causing any damage?”

“Not at the moment,” the Doctor replied, running a dermal regenerator over some bruises and minor cuts she had sustained during the fight in the cargo bay.  “But they should be removed.”

“Doctor,” Janeway said, looking him in the eye, “tell me the truth.  What’s Commander Chakotay’s condition?”

The Doctor glanced over at the commander, and then back at Janeway.  “It’s not good,” he admitted softly.  “The nanoprobes have a chance of repairing his neural pathways, but even if they do, there’s no way of telling what permanent damage has been done to his personality, his memories.”

“Don’t remove our myo-neural cortical arrays yet, mine and Chakotay’s,” Janeway said, equally softly.  “Back on the station, I was able to reach him through our shared memories.  If Seven’s nanoprobes fail to bring him back, maybe I can reach him again.”  

The EMH looked at Janeway sadly.  “I can wait a few days to remove the arrays from yourself and Commander Chakotay.  That won’t cause any damage to either of you.  But I have to tell you in my honest medical opinion that the likelihood of anyone being able to reach the commander should the nanoprobes fail is almost nil.  Even if the neurological damage can be repaired, there’s no telling what psychological damage has been done.  The Commander Chakotay we know may very well be gone forever.”

Stricken by the Doctor’s words, Janeway’s eyes shot back to the biobed where Chakotay lay.  Seven looked up, her eyes met the captain’s, and by her haunted expression, Janeway knew that she, too, knew the truth that the Doctor had spoken.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

  **VIII.**

* * *

  
“You could have both been killed, son,” Admiral Owen Paris admonished his youngest child.

“We’re okay, Dad,” Tom replied, feeling B’Elanna’s hand come to rest on his shoulder.

“That's not the point.  Putting yourselves at risk like that?  When you have a new baby?  How could you?”

“Being a Starfleet officer is a risky job, Dad.  Or have you forgotten that after all your years stuck behind a desk?”

“Don’t you mouth off to me like that, young man.”    

“Owen, Tom’s a grown man, more than capable of making his own choices.”  Marlene Paris came up behind her husband, holding baby Miral.

“Hi, honey,” Tom said to his daughter through the view screen, his demeanor instantly changing.

“Hi,” B’Elanna added over his shoulder.  “We miss you, baby.”

“She misses you, too,” said Marlene.  Owen stepped away from the console and let his wife take over the conversation for a moment.  “You know your father, Tom.  He’s hot headed.”

“Don’t I know it,” Tom muttered.

“But,” his mother continued in a warning tone, “you should have just told him the truth about where you were going and what you were going to do.  You didn’t think you could trust your own father?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust Dad, but that I respect his rank.  Admiral Garrett has a lot of power and a lot of connections.  I didn’t want to put Dad in a bad position.”

“See, Owen?” Marlene said over her shoulder.  “Tom was trying to protect you.”

Owen Paris reappeared on the screen.  “I’m sorry for getting angry.  We were just so worried about you.”  He looked down at his granddaughter who was gurgling softly in his wife’s arms.  “We don’t want this little one to grow up without parents.”

Tom took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, too, Dad.  I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you the truth from the beginning.”

“The important thing is you’re all okay,” said Marlene.

“Maybe,” B’Elanna put in.  “Chakotay still hasn’t recovered.  The Doctor doesn’t know if he will or not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Owen.

“We’ll be home in about ten days,” Tom said.  “Do you think you can handle our little girl for that much longer?”

Marlene looked down at Miral with a loving smile and touched the baby’s cheek.  “Of course we can, can’t we, little one?” she said to the baby.

B’Elanna patted Tom on the shoulder.  “I think your parents are doing just fine.”

“We miss you, Miral,” he said to his daughter.  “We’ll see you soon.”

“Let me know if you need anything, son,” said Owen seriously.  “And be in touch.”

“I will, Dad.  Thanks.”

“Paris out.”  

The comm call ended and Tom sat back in his chair with a sigh.  “Well, that could have gone worse.”

“Just wait till Miral is running off on her own and commandeering ships,” B’Elanna warned.  “I bet you’ll feel the same way your father does now.”

Tom stood up and took his wife in his arms.  “You know, I thought that when we got home from the Delta Quadrant, life was going to be simpler.”

“Don’t wish for that, flyboy,” B’Elanna replied with a laugh.  “You’d get bored!”

“Oh, really?” he asked, leaning down to nibble the skin below her ear.  “As it is, we have a little more than a week with no assignment and no baby to distract us.”  He pulled her closer to him, grasping her buttocks in his hands.  “I don’t know,” he murmured, his breath hot on her ear, “I’m getting bored already.  How about you?”

“Mmhmph,” she tried to answer him, but his lips descended on hers and the words quickly became a muffled moan.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway strode down the _Enterprise_ ’s corridors.  The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of activity.  The _Enterprise_ had set a course for Earth, leaving the _Gryphon_ standing sentinel over Garrett’s space station to make sure that nothing was disturbed.  

After questioning the surviving crew of the Romulan warbird, she and Picard had determined that the crewmen knew nothing significant about what had gone on aboard the station.  The _Enterprise_ had rendezvoused with a Romulan ship, and they had granted the Empire’s extradition request.  However, the Romulans seemed to have abandoned Commander Teral and had made no objection to Starfleet’s desire to hold her for further questioning, and possibly even prosecution.  Teral remained in the _Enterprise_ ’s brig but continued to refuse to talk, despite having been told that her government had left her twisting in the wind.

Janeway had spent hours in comm meetings with Admiral Hayes, Admiral Paris, Admiral Ross and the judge advocate general, painstakingly going over every detail of her encounter with Garrett.  The Doctor, Paris, Torres, Tuvok, and Seven had all made their own reports as well.  Janeway wanted the case against Garrett to be airtight, leaving no chance of the admiral escaping life in prison, the harshest punishment available under Federation law.  Dr. Zupanich still refused to say a word against his colleague, but she thought that she could make a strong case without his testimony.

As Janeway walked through the sickbay doors, she stopped short.  Seven sat at Chakotay’s bedside, talking softly to him.  She stood when she saw Janeway.  “Captain.”

“Seven, how’s our patient doing?” she asked, approaching the biobed.  Seven’s myo-neural cortical array had been removed, so they were no longer linked.  Janeway and Chakotay had yet to undergo the removal procedure.

“The nanoprobes are functioning at peak efficiency,” Seven replied.

Janeway smiled.  For all the strides Seven had made towards recapturing her humanity, it seemed she might always value efficiency and perfection above everything.

The EMH approached the biobed.  “The commander’s vital signs and neurological activity have improved significantly in the last twenty-four hours.  However, he still remains unconscious, and I still do not know what permanent damage he may suffer.”

“What about the other two drones?” Janeway asked, gesturing to the other two occupied biobeds.

“I have removed their myo-neural cortical arrays and injected them with some of Seven’s reprogrammed nanoprobes.  The nanoprobes are repairing their neural pathways, but, like Chakotay, they both remain unconscious.”

“I see.”

“Admiral Garrett has been moved to an isolated cell in the brig,” the EMH continued.

“Yes, I know.”  

“He is conscious but he wasn’t very happy when he realized that his neural transceiver had been removed and his link to the hive mind severed.”

“I can imagine.  Doctor, I know you’ve already given your initial report to the admiralty, but I’d like you to prepare a full analysis of Garrett and Zupanich’s methods of assimilation and their plot to create a human collective.  I don’t want anyone to be able to argue that they simply took advantage of our homecoming and Seven’s presence.”

“Indeed, Captain.  This was a plot that took many years for them to develop.  Our arrival in the Alpha Quadrant may have enabled them to accelerate their timeframe, but their actions were clearly pre-meditated.  I’ll get started on it right away.  Dr. Crusher has allowed me to share her office until we return to Earth.”

“Excellent.  Thank you, Doctor.”  

It was clearly a dismissal, but the Doctor lingered.  “Captain, your removal procedure…” he began.  

“Is the myo-neural cortical array causing me any damage?”

“Not that I can tell, but…”

“Then we wait,” Janeway said firmly.  “We wait until Chakotay regains consciousness.”  

“And if he doesn’t?” the Doctor asked, trying to keep his tone as gentle as possible.

Janeway looked away and clenched her jaw.  “He will.  Chakotay is still in there.  I know it.  I felt him.”

“That was days ago, Captain.”  He put his hand on her shoulder.  “I’m sorry, but you have to face the possibility that Commander Chakotay won’t recover.”

“I may have to face that possibility someday,” she replied softly, “but not today.”  She looked back at the Doctor.  “One more day.  Give him at least another twenty-four hours.  Delaying my procedure that long won’t hurt me, will it?”

The Doctor shook his head.

“And it won’t hurt Chakotay either?”

“No, Captain, not as far as I can tell.”  

A small smile crossed Janeway’s face, the relief of a horror that was held at bay for a day longer.  “Thank you, Doctor.”

The EMH nodded and hurried off to complete his report.  Janeway looked back at Chakotay.  She stepped around the biobed, her hand touching his leg as she moved.  She looked at his face, his peaceful expression.  His hands lay at his sides and her fingers found his.  They were warm, but did not respond to her touch.

“I can go, Captain, if you’d like to stay with Chakotay for a while,” Seven offered.

Kathryn looked up, startled.  She had forgotten about Seven’s presence.  She released Chakotay’s hand and stepped back quickly.  “No, Seven, that’s all right.”

“The Doctor said it might help Chakotay if I talked to him.”

“I’m sure it’s very helpful.”  Kathryn swallowed hard.  “I’m glad he has you by his side, to help him through this time.”

“And you, Captain.”

“Of course,” she replied quickly.  She looked into Seven’s eyes.  “No matter what happens, I’ll be here to help both of you.”

“You always have been,” Seven said.

“Yes, and I always will be.”  Silence filled the room until Janeway abruptly said, “Well, I have to be getting back to work now.  I have a lot to do.”

Seven nodded and watched Janeway leave sickbay.  Then she turned back to Chakotay.  “I do not understand the captain’s behavior,” she told his unresponsive form.  “And I am beginning to wonder if I ever understood yours.”

* * *

As Kathryn left sickbay, she felt a storm of conflicting emotions churn through her.  She felt fear, fear that Chakotay would not recover, that he would never again be the man she had known.  She felt a raging, hot anger towards Garrett.  And she felt another kind of inner turmoil, too, one that she was hesitant to put words to.

When she had walked into sickbay and found Seven sitting with Chakotay, speaking to him so intimately, it had felt as though she’d been punched in the gut.  In all the activity of the past few days, she had not had time to reflect on Chakotay’s deeply hidden memories that she had seen during their link on the station.  For one brief moment, she had been granted a glimpse into his soul, and a glimpse into the depth of the feelings he had once had for her.  She wondered, were these emotions only memories?  Were his feelings only in the past?  Was it time for her, too, to accept the inevitable and move on?

Ever since learning that her engagement was over and Mark had moved on, she had held, in the back of her mind, the image of her and Chakotay, happy and free to explore their feelings without repercussions for their crew or their mission.  She had pictured them relaxing together by the water, drinks in hand, laughing, talking, kissing, and finally able to enjoy life and each other to the fullest.  Now, she knew that Chakotay, too, had once harbored feelings for her, but he’d let her go.  He had moved on, as painful as it may have been for him, and she had been too preoccupied to see it at the time.  Perhaps it was time for her, too, to let go of the feelings she’d secretly harbored for so long.  

After all, she had accomplished what she set out to do when she had followed Braxton’s instructions and left Earth to find Garrett and rescue Chakotay and Seven.  Garrett was in the brig, Seven was fine, and all that remained was for Chakotay to recover.  If he did, and if he and Seven then wished to pursue their relationship, Kathryn Janeway silently determined that she would not be the one to stand in their way.  _No_ , she thought.  _I can only want for him to be whole and happy once again.  Whatever part I play or don’t play in his life after that will be a small price to pay.  All I want is for him to be himself, to have his individuality and personality restored.  The rest doesn’t matter._

Outside the brig, Janeway paused, realizing where her footsteps had taken her.  The swirling emotions that made her chest feel tight had led her to the one person who she could confront.  Clenching her jaw, she stepped forward, the doors swishing open before her.

“Captain Janeway,” the security guard greeted her.

She glanced around the brig.  Every cell was full with members of Garrett’s staff.  “I need to speak with Garrett.”

“Right this way, Captain,” said the ensign, who led her to an isolated cell in the back of the brig.

“Thank you, Ensign.  Return to your post.”

Her approach had woken Garrett, and he sat up on the bench in his cell, immediately fixing her with a glare.  “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

Garrett rolled his eyes.  “I have nothing to say to you.”

“You’ve been planning this collective for years, haven’t you?” Janeway asked.  “You’ve done meticulous research, experiments, planning.  Seven wasn’t part of your agenda to being with, was she?  You just took advantage of our homecoming.”  Tight-lipped, Garrett did not reply.  Janeway forged ahead.  “In all your research, in all your tests, did you ever reverse the process?  Did you ever try to return someone’s individuality?”

Garrett studied her for a long moment, and then, so suddenly it made her jump, he threw his head back in a loud chortle.  “You’re here to beg, Janeway,” he said mockingly.  “You’re here to beg for a cure for your precious commander?  Well, my dear captain, there isn’t one.  All of the research that Torstin and I did suggests that the erasure of the individual is permanent and irreversible.  Why would I want it any other way?  Once a being has become part of the collective, why would they ever want to return to the small, petty, confusing life of an individual?  You are a fool, Janeway.  If that sneaky Borg of yours hadn’t deceived me, I would have bent your will to mine just like I did your first officer’s.”

“If he dies because of what you’ve done…”  

“What?” Garrett interrupted her with a sneer.  “You’ll come into my cell and kill me yourself?  Then you’re no better than I am, Janeway.”

“You act as if you’re a god, Garrett, but you’re not.  You don’t even deserve to be called human.  You gave up the right to be called a man the moment you initiated force against another individual.  I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that you spend the rest of your days in a cell, regretting your actions.”

“Good luck,” Garrett scoffed.  “You can try to convict me in a court all you want, but you and I both know the truth.  I told you from the very beginning; Starfleet wanted me to be here.  They won’t convict me of anything.”

“We have evidence, Garrett.  The station, the men you assimilated…  Instead of gaining power over others, you’ve lost everything.  You’re going to prison for a very long time, probably the rest of your life.”

“No!”  Garrett stood and lunged towards Janeway, almost as if he had forgotten there was a forcefield separating them.  She stared him in the eyes, refusing to back down.  Then abruptly, Garrett began to laugh.  It was a harsh, unpleasant sound, not at all filled with joy.  “Oh, Captain, my dear captain.  You have no idea.  No idea at all.”

“No idea about what?”

As suddenly as he had started laughing, Garrett stopped, his expression becoming deadly serious as he stared her in the eye.  “I have more power at my fingertips than you can possibly imagine.  If you think I’m going to prison, you’re a fool.”

“We have an airtight case against you and a dozen people who will testify to what you did on that station.”

“They may testify to what Zupanich did,” Garrett replied smugly.  Then he changed his tone of voice, sounding pathetic and uncertain, “I don’t know how to modify a nanoprobe or extract one.  How could I have done any of the things you’re accusing me of?”

“You commanded the collective.  You ordered me to fire on Tuvok.  You ordered Chakotay to fire on B’Elanna.  You were going to make me assimilate them.”

“But my mind was altered,” Garrett continued in the most innocent, helpless tone he could muster.  “I can’t be held responsible for my actions.  It was Zupanich.  He was the one who did everything.  I can’t be blamed!”  Garrett’s voice rose to a loud cry, and then he paused, his tone suddenly low again, his eyes narrowing.  “You’re the one who’s going to lose everything.  If I were you, I’d watch my back from now on.  You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Then why don’t you tell me?”

Garrett’s expression changed again, and he grinned, wide and toothy.  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  Unfortunately for you, I’m smarter than you think.  You’ll find out the answers to all your questions, Janeway, but not until it’s too late.”  Garrett let lose another long peal of laughter.

Janeway turned and walked away from his cell, suddenly certain that whatever else he may be, Vince Garrett was utterly insane.

* * *

“In one week, we will arrive at Starfleet Headquarters,” Captain Picard said to the combined senior staffs sitting around his briefing room table.  They’d had to add quite a few chairs for Janeway, Tuvok, Torres, Paris, Kim, Seven, and the EMH, in addition to the _Enterprise_ ’s senior staff.  

Janeway looked around the table.  She knew some members of Picard’s staff better than others, but she’d gotten to work with them all over the past few days and had developed great respect for each of them.  She was grateful for the presence of her own people at the table, but as she sat in between Picard and Tuvok, she felt Chakotay’s absence keenly.

Picard continued, “All members of Garrett’s staff will be transferred from our brig directly to Starfleet Command for debriefing and whatever disciplinary action the admiralty deems necessary.  In order to avoid a public scandal, Starfleet has arranged to do this as quietly as possible and is asking that none of us make any public statements regarding this incident.”

“What about Admiral Garrett and Dr. Zupanich?” Kim asked.

“They will both be tried for their crimes.  A court martial has been scheduled for Admiral Garrett.  Dr. Zupanich, as he is not part of Starfleet, will be tried in the Federation court system.”

“So Admiral Garrett’s trial will remain secret, but Dr. Zupanich’s will be public,” Torres said, an edge of anger in her voice.

“Unfortunately that’s not the worst of our problems,” said Janeway.  “Admiral Garrett plans to lay the entire plot on Zupanich.”

“Can he do that?” Kim asked.

“The admiral intends to testify that he was not in control of his own mind because of the neural transceiver that Zupanich attached to his brain stem,” said Tuvok, who had already discussed the issue at length with Janeway.

“Admiral Garrett ordered Zupanich to install the neural transceiver,” said Seven.  “I witnessed it.”    

“That will be difficult to prove,” said Lieutenant Commander Data, “as we have been unable to find a written order to that effect in the logs we downloaded from the station.”

“That sneaky, evil, underhanded…” Torres started.

Janeway held up a hand.  “Lieutenant,” she warned, and B’Elanna refrained from uttering the Klingon insult that had been on the tip of her tongue.  “The bottom line is,” she said, “we need Dr. Zupanich to testify against Admiral Garrett.”

“So far, the doctor has been resistant to all attempts at interrogation,” said Tuvok.

“I spoke to Dr. Zupanich at Captain Picard’s request,” said Counselor Troi.  “The man has clearly been traumatized by some event in his past, but it’s very hard to get past the barriers he’s put up.  His loyalty to Admiral Garrett is striking.  He views Garrett as his savior.”

“Is it possible that Garrett is holding something over him?  Blackmail?  He knows Zupanich’s dark secret, and Zupanich is protecting Garrett in order to protect himself?” Riker asked.

Troi shook her head.  “I don’t think so.  Zupanich’s feelings towards Garrett are genuinely reverent.  In his eyes, Garrett can do no wrong.”

“Does he know that Garrett plans to blame him for everything?” asked Paris.

“I told him in our last interrogation session,” replied Tuvok.  “He still refused to say anything that would incriminate Garrett.”

“Because of whatever happened in his past, this dark secret he refuses to share,” said Troi, “Zupanich feels a deep seated self-loathing.  He will happily take on the blame for what happened for Garrett, whom he loves, and sacrifice himself.”

“Counselor, how can we make Zupanich testify?” Janeway asked.

“I don’t know if you can.  You can’t force a man to say or believe something that he doesn’t want to.”

Janeway shivered.  That was the crux of this whole dilemma, Garrett’s attempt to force the will of another man.

“However,” Troi continued, “if we could get Dr. Zupanich to talk about whatever happened to him in the past, it might offer us some insight that would help us reach him.”

“We need a doorway,” said Crusher, “a way into his psyche.”

“Exactly.”

“I’d like to try speaking with him, Captain,” the EMH said.

“You think you’ll have better luck than Commander Tuvok and Counselor Troi?” Picard asked.

“I was stuck with Zupanich for several days on the station.  More than once, he started to tell me what had happened to him.  He wanted to explain himself to me, for me to understand why he had done the things he’d done.  I think he wanted the sanction of another doctor.  He wanted me to tell him what he’d done for Garrett was all right.”

“But you didn’t,” said Janeway.

“No, and when I told him what I really thought of him, he shut down and stopped talking to me.”  The Doctor paused.  “The man is crazy, Captain.  He really believes that by turning people into drones, he’s doing them a favor.  That, I can’t understand.  But there’s one thing I can understand about him, which is that he wanted to help people.  Please, Captain, let me try to talk to him.”

Janeway looked at Picard.  He nodded his agreement.  “All right, Doctor,” said Janeway.  “Talk to Dr. Zupanich.  Convince him to testify, if you can.”  She looked around the table.  “If you can’t, we better come up with a plan B, and fast.”

“What about the evidence?” Paris asked.  “The _Gryphon_ is still guarding the cloaked space station.  Surely Starfleet Command won’t believe that a civilian doctor concocted a plot with the Romulans and took command of a Federation space station by himself.”

“True, Mr. Paris,” said Janeway, “but they might believe that he manipulated a Starfleet admiral into doing just that.”

“If Commander Teral were willing to talk,” began Riker.

He was interrupted by a call over the comm system.  “Sickbay to briefing room.”

“Crusher here.”

“Doctor, I think you and the EMH may want to get down here.”

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“It’s Commander Chakotay, Doctor.”

Crusher and the EMH stood at the same time.  “We’re on our way,” she said.

The two doctors exited the briefing, and the conversation continued for a few more minutes, as Riker, Data, Paris and Kim speculated about the Romulan connection to Garrett’s plot.  Kathryn didn’t hear a word of the conversation.  Her heart was beating so loudly it seemed to drown out all the other sounds in the room.  She had to concentrate to keep her breathing steady and felt relief wash over her when Picard finally dismissed the meeting.  Picard turned to her as if to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.  “If you’ll excuse me, Captain,” she said, and bolted out of her chair and into the turbolift.

* * *

 As Janeway rushed into sickbay, the EMH was scanning Chakotay with a medical tricorder.  Nearby, a console beeped loudly.

“Ten cc’s delactovine,” Crusher ordered.  A nurse pressed a hypospray into Crusher’s hand, and she applied it to Chakotay’s neck.  

“Doctor, report,” Janeway ordered.  

The console stopped beeping, and Crusher breathed a sigh of relief.  “He’s stabilized.”

“Physically, yes,” said the EMH, closing the tricorder and glancing up at Janeway, “but his brain functions appear to be shutting down.  He’s slipped into a coma.”

“Have the nanoprobes malfunctioned?” Janeway asked, stepping closer.

“No,” said the Doctor, “but they’ve stopped functioning.  It seems they’ve repaired all the damage to the commander’s neural pathways that they can.”

“Then why is he in a coma?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor replied.

“Even with our advanced medical technology, there’s so much about the brain we don’t fully understand,” added Crusher.  “Maybe his brain functions will shut down for a while, and then he’ll wake up and be fine.”

“Or he may never wake up,” the Doctor said grimly.  “Unfortunately, there’s no way to know.”

“Let me try to reach him through the link,” Janeway said, stepping towards Chakotay’s biobed.

“Captain, I don’t think…” the Doctor started.

“Is there any risk to Chakotay or myself?”

“Physical risk, no,” the EMH said hesitantly, “but…”

“But what?”

“I think the Doctor is concerned about the emotional repercussions for you, Captain, should your attempt fail,” Crusher said gently.

Janeway shook her head.  “I have to try.  Just tell me there’s no risk I could hurt him further.”

“There’s always a risk,” said the Doctor, “but as far as I can tell, there’s nothing you could do that would make the situation worse.  I want to put a cortical monitor on you, Captain, just in case something goes wrong.”

Janeway nodded her assent.  Crusher pulled up a chair for her, and she sat next to Chakotay’s bed, taking his hand in hers even though she didn’t know whether or not he could feel her touching him.  She felt the cold metal of the cortical monitor on her skin.  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, reaching out to Chakotay through the link as Seven had taught her back on the station.  It was easy now; there were no other minds to sift through, only hers and Chakotay’s.  But his mind was a blank to her.  She felt as though she were standing in an endless, dark hallway.  _Chakotay_ , she called.  _Chakotay!_

There was no response, and she could not sense any indication that he had heard her.  _Chakotay, it’s Kathryn.  I know you’re there.  Listen to me._ When there was still no response, she followed the path she had followed during their last connection, the path to his memories, to memories that they shared.  She conjured a memory of her own in an attempt to reach him.

_She was sitting next to him on the floor of her ready room, so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body.  He was showing her his medicine bundle, a precious treasure that he had never shared with anyone.  He took her hand to place it upon the akoonah.  She felt a jolt of electricity at his touch and stared down at the device, afraid of what she would feel if she looked into his eyes._

_Chakotay?_ But still, she felt nothing from him.  She delved into another memory.

_“I guess I didn’t really expect him to wait for me considering the circumstances,” she was saying as they sat next to each other on the couch in her ready room.  “It made me realize that I was using him as a safety net, you know, as a way to avoid becoming involved with someone else.”_

This time, she did feel something from Chakotay, a deeply buried emotion that was still there.  She felt a thrill run through her.  Chakotay was still alive!  

_Don’t let go.  Stay with me_ , she thought towards the stirring sensation from him, and continued into the memory.

_“You don’t have that safety net anymore,” he said._

_“That’s right.  Then again, my life is far from uneventful here in the Delta Quadrant.  It’s not like I would have had a chance to pursue a relationship, even if I had realized I was alone.”_

_“You’re hardly alone,” he replied gently.  “And to my way of thinking, there’s still plenty of time.”_

_She could feel the heat of his eyes on her, and a memory of her own thoughts at the time filled her.  As he had gazed at her, she had wondered whether he would lean forward, closer, and bring his lips to hers._

She heard something.  It sounded like crying.  _Chakotay?  Chakotay, I’m here._   But he did not respond.

_Remember_ , Kathryn thought.  _Come back.  You have to find your way back to me.  Find your way back to yourself._ She smiled as another memory occurred to her.

_They were sitting together on the deck of a holographic sailboat.  “The air smells better at the real Lake George,” she was telling him.  “Someday, I’ll take you there.”_

_“I’d like that,” he said, slipping an arm around her shoulders and clinking his champagne glass to hers.  She snuggled into his arms and closed her eyes, listened to the beat of his heart and felt truly happy.  She wished she could live in that moment forever._

This time, she almost heard the words of his response.  It seemed like he’d said, _So did I._   For a moment, she could feel the warmth emanating from his heart, but then it was gone, replaced by the blankness she had felt when she had initiated their connection.  

_No!_ she thought.  Don’t let go.  I feel you, Chakotay.  I know you’re there.  Don’t recede into the darkness.     

_They were sitting across the table from one another, hands clasped, fingers intertwined.  A single tear rolled down her cheek.  “Is that really an ancient legend?” she asked, so touched by his heartfelt words that she didn’t know what to say._

_He ducked his head with embarrassment in a way that only made him more charming.  “No,” he admitted, “but that made it easier to say.”_

_For a long time, they sat at the table, staring into each other’s eyes, neither one of them wanting the moment to end.  Kathryn stared at this man, perhaps the only man she would ever see for the rest of her days, and felt her heart swell in her chest.  Another tear rolled down her cheek._ I love you _, she had thought, but had not said aloud.  And she could not believe she had thought it, but as the days went by, the thought only became more clear in her mind, not less._

She allowed Chakotay to experience the incredible sense of heartbreak and loss that she had felt when they had received Tuvok’s call.  She had not been upset about returning to _Voyager_ or to their crew, but she replayed for him their last moments on the planet, both in uniform once again, and her own thoughts, _I cannot look back.  I can only look forward, straight ahead.  I must forget what I cannot have._

But despite her vow, she could not forget, not that night, nor the night on the holographic Lake George, nor the night before their failed slipstream attempt, nor the night after the Equinox incident.  She could not forget after their return from Quarra, nor after he’d been possessed by Teero, nor when Admiral Janeway gave her the news about Chakotay’s future marriage to Seven.  _I never forgot, Chakotay,_ she said.  _I never turned away.  I only seemed to._

_Kathryn?_   She heard the word, clear and solid in her mind.

_Yes, it’s me.  Do you know who you are?_

_I’m…  I’m Chakotay._   The voice seemed hesitant at first, but then it repeated, _I’m Chakotay._

_Yes!_

_I am Chakotay._

With a gasp, Kathryn opened her eyes.  She felt his fingers move over hers.  She squeezed his hand and felt him squeeze back.  Then her gaze found his face, and slowly, Chakotay’s eyes opened.

“Kathryn?” he rasped, his voice scratchy from disuse.

“Yes,” was all she could manage to say as she leaned over him, cupping his cheek in her hand, her tears falling onto his face and onto the blue sickbay blanket.

He looked at her, and she could tell he was trying to smile, but then his eyes closed again.  “Doctor!  Doctor!” she cried.

The EMH, who had been standing a few feet away watching the monitor, came rushing to the biobed as Janeway called, Dr. Crusher close behind him.

“He was…  He was awake.  He said my name.”  The tears were still rolling down her cheeks, and she made no move to wipe them away.  Chakotay’s hand was still in hers.

The Doctor scanned Chakotay with a medical tricorder, urgently at first, but then she saw the hologram relax.  “He’s fine, Captain.  He’s just asleep.  He came out of the coma.  He’s going to be all right.”

Janeway sagged against the biobed, and Dr. Crusher was at her side, a warm arm around her, holding her up. “Now, Captain,” she said, “it’s time for you to get some rest.”

“Yes,” the EMH agreed, “and to get that myo-neural cortical array removed.”

For once, Kathryn was too tired to argue.  Her eyes remaining on Chakotay’s peaceful form, she allowed Crusher to lead her to an adjoining biobed and sedate her.


	10. IX.

The sounds around him were somehow comforting, beeps, clicks and whirs that were almost soothing in their familiarity.  At the edge of his consciousness were strange memories.  He remembered a searing pain in his skull, and hearing an unfamiliar, booming voice telling him his designation was Drone Zero Two.  He could vaguely picture himself repairing systems on a space station, but the images were like those of a dream, fuzzy and fading, not quite real.

More memories surfaced.  He remembered Seven’s voice telling him that someone was trying to take away his individuality and encouraging him to fight.  Seven had been with him in the dream, he thought.  Kathryn, too.

The thought of Kathryn brought another memory to the forefront of his mind.  _He was sitting across a table from Kathryn, interlacing his fingers with hers, but he was seeing the scene through her eyes, hearing her thoughts._ I love you, _she had thought, but not said aloud._

He was seeing himself again, through her eyes, in the ready room, as she sat next to him and wondered whether he was going to kiss her.  _How am I seeing these things?_ he wondered.  _Am I hallucinating?_

He had a vague memory of awakening to her holding his hand in an unfamiliar sickbay, but the memory was fuzzy.

A sound from beside him brought him to the present moment.  “Doctor!” a woman’s voice called.  “I think Chakotay is awake.”

“Kathryn,” he murmured, his lips stiff, his throat dry, his voice cracking after lack of use.

“Doctor,” the voice said again, but the voice was not Kathryn’s.

Chakotay opened his eyes to find the EMH and a red-headed human doctor leaning over him.  There was a hand on his, and he turned his head to find Seven of Nine at his side.  “Hello, Chakotay,” she greeted him with a smile.

“How are you feeling, Commander?” the red-haired doctor asked.

“What happened?” he asked.  “Where am I?”

“You’re on the _Enterprise_ ,” the doctor said.  “I’m Dr. Crusher.”

“What’s going on?  Where’s Kathryn?”

Seven removed her hand from his.  “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow.  “I’m not sure,” he said.  “Everything is so confused.”

“Relax, Commander,” the EMH reassured him.  “You’ll be able to sort through your memories in time.  With some help from Captain Janeway, the nanoprobes have restored your neural pathways.”

“Nanoprobes?”

The Doctor nodded.  He explained to Chakotay what Admiral Garrett had done to him while Seven and Dr. Crusher stepped away from the biobed.  “Seven was powerless to stop Garrett and Zupanich from doing what they did to you,” the Doctor said.  “Her nanoprobes were extracted and modified without her consent.”

“I don’t blame Seven, Doctor,” Chakotay assured the EMH.  His eyes strayed to Seven, who was standing on the other side of sickbay and seemed to be having a comm conversation with someone.  “How did I get here?”

“It’s a long, strange story, Commander.  Lieutenants Torres and Paris discovered that you and Seven were missing from your apartments in San Francisco.  Captain Janeway got suspicious, and we came looking for you.  It was the captain who found you.  She was assimilated into Garrett’s collective herself, but Seven managed to make some quick modifications to the nanoprobes so the captain wouldn’t suffer the same neurological damage that you did.”

“Kathryn and I… we were both part of the same collective?”

“Yes.”

The pieces started to come together in Chakotay’s mind.  He had been linked to Kathryn somehow.  Maybe that explained some of the strange images in his memories.  

Seven walked back over to the biobed.  “How do you feel, Chakotay?” she asked.

“Confused,” he admitted.  “But I’ll be okay.  Are you all right?  The Doctor told me what Zupanich and Garrett did to you… taking your nanoprobes…”

“I am fine now, thank you.  Dr. Zupanich did not do any permanent damage,” Seven said.  “I am relieved that you are going to be fine as well.”  Chakotay smiled and turned his hand open.  Seven rested her palm in his and squeezed his hand.

Chakotay heard the sickbay doors open.  “Captain Janeway,” Doctor Crusher greeted her.  “Commander Chakotay is awake.  He’s been asking for you.”  

Chakotay tried to raise his head, but found he was too weak.  Seven let go of his hand and stepped away from the biobed.  A moment later, he was looking into the concerned eyes of Kathryn Janeway.  “Kathryn,” he said, his voice sounding strangled to his own ears, “are you all right?”

She smiled, her eyes unusually bright.  “Shouldn’t that be my line?  I’m not the one lying in sickbay.”

“I’m okay, now,” he said.  “Thanks to you, apparently.”

“And thanks to Seven, and the Doctor, and Dr. Crusher, too,” she added.  “How do you feel?”

“Like I just woke up from a very long dream.  I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.  Everything is jumbled together.”

“I’m sure it’s very confusing,” Kathryn said, “but I have every confidence you’ll sort it all out.”

“Captain,” the EMH cut in, “there will be plenty of time for conversation later.  Right now, my patient needs to rest.”

Chakotay felt frustrated by the Doctor’s words.  He wanted Kathryn to stay, wanted to talk about everything with her.  He wanted her hand to find his as Seven’s had.  But she did not touch him.  “Kathryn…”

“I’m glad you’re going to be okay, Chakotay,” she said.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call with Admiral Hayes.  I know you’re in good hands, and as the Doctor says, you need your rest.”

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly.  “I’ll see you later, then?”

She nodded.  “I’ll see you soon.”  Chakotay’s eyes followed her as far as they could before she disappeared from view and the sickbay doors opened and closed behind her.

He felt Seven’s hand on his shoulder.  “I should go as well,” she said, “and let you rest.  I will see you later.”

“Okay, Seven.  Thank you.”

The EMH administered a hypospray, and Chakotay was left alone to puzzle through the strange memories that filled his mind, until his eyelids got heavy and he fell into a deep sleep.  
  


* * *

  
Kathryn didn’t hear the doors of sickbay as they shut behind her.  She didn’t see the crewman who nodded to her as they passed in the corridor.  She wasn’t aware of where she was going or of whether she had a destination at all.  In her mind’s eye, she was still walking into sickbay to find Seven holding Chakotay’s hand.  The relief she felt at his having awakened was tempered by this image, which had felt like a punch to the gut.

She had forgotten that Chakotay had not experienced their link fully and consciously the way that she had.  She had forgotten that he might not be aware of anything they had shared.  While she had experienced a moment of deep intimacy with him, she had forgotten that he might not have experienced the same thing.  She had walked into sickbay flooded with relief and gratitude that Chakotay was awake and that he had recovered.  But then she had seen Seven at his bedside, and an expectation she hadn’t known she had was dashed.  Until that moment, she hadn’t realized that she had pictured him awakening with her hand in his, not Seven’s.

_Just as long as he’s okay_ , she reminded herself.  _That’s all that’s important._   But still, she felt hollow and empty inside.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t see the person she collided into until after they bumped into each other.

“Captain!” B’Elanna exclaimed.  Then she took a closer look at Janeway.  “Are you all right?”

“B’Elanna.  I’m sorry.  I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, Captain, you look like hell.”  She paused.  “Is Chakotay…”

“Chakotay is going to be fine,” Janeway said tiredly.  “He’s awake.  Or, he was.  The Doctor is taking care of him.  Said he needs to rest.”

“That’s great news!”

“Yes.  It’s great.”  She felt inexplicable tears sting her eyes and she turned hurriedly away from B’Elanna.

“I’m just on my way back to my quarters,” said Torres softly.  “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I was just on my way to…” Janeway began but then realized that she wasn’t on her way anywhere.  “Sure.”

B’Elanna took Janeway by the elbow and led her to her quarters.  She helped the captain sit down on the sofa and replicated two cups of coffee, handing Janeway one steaming mug.

“Thank you,” Janeway said, still not meeting the other woman’s eyes.

B’Elanna sat down across from her.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About whatever has got you upset.  About you and Chakotay?”

Janeway stared past her coffee cup at the floor, and B’Elanna sat in silence, waiting for her to speak.  Kathryn took a long sip of her coffee.  “Do you know what the worst thing is, B’Elanna?” she finally asked.

“What?”

“Hope.”

“How’s that, Captain?”

“Hope is dangerous.  When you have no hope, you can’t be disappointed.  You accept things for what they are, rather than hoping for what could be or might be.  If the life you have is so different from the life you imagined would be yours, you learn to live with it.  But when you see a glimpse of something you’ve always wanted, always longed for, when it seems possible for a fraction of a second, then you start to hope for it.  You start to believe that maybe things can change, that maybe they could be better.  And then, when your hopes are dashed, when you realized what you longed for will never be yours, it’s much worse to try and go back to accepting things the way they are than it would have been if you had never had that hope.”

Kathryn paused and took a sip of her coffee.  B’Elanna watched her silently, sensing she would continue.  “In the Delta Quadrant, at first I was filled with hope that we would get home.  Every wormhole, every bit of alien technology that had the potential to carry us across the galaxy, I was convinced it would work.  But gradually, I had no choice but to give up that hope.  How many times can one person be let down, disappointed?  How many times can one person take that before they are destroyed from the inside out?”

“But you never gave up hope completely,” B’Elanna said.  “When Admiral Janeway wanted to give up, you fought her on the hope that your plan to get home would work.”

“I wasn’t going to give up the chance,” Janeway replied.  “I understood the possibility that we would be successful.  But I didn’t dare hope that it would work.”

“You had hope that Chakotay would recover.  That he would be okay.”

“Yes.”  Janeway put her coffee mug down on the table and dropped her head into her hands.  “Oh B’Elanna,” she sighed, “you must think I’m so selfish and ungrateful.”

B’Elanna wrapped an arm around Janeway’s shoulder.  “Now those are two words I would never use to describe you.  Why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

Janeway sighed and pulled away from B’Elanna’s arm.  “I didn’t even realize I had started hoping about us until I walked into sickbay and saw him holding her hand.”

“Seven?” Torres asked.

Kathryn nodded.  “In Garrett’s collective, Chakotay and I were linked.  I attempted several times to reach him, to stop Garrett’s nanoprobes from wiping away his personality completely.  In that process, we shared memories, feelings.  It was very intimate, a reminder of the deep connection we share.  I used to think that someday that connection could become more than a friendship between colleagues, but I had given up that hope, too.”

“Until you experienced that connection through your link to him,” B’Elanna supplied.

“Yes.  But now, I don’t even know if he remembers, or if he experienced what I experienced at all.  Maybe for him those memories were just that, in the past.  Maybe he doesn’t have those feelings anymore.  I had… forgotten about his relationship with Seven in that link, because our connection was so strong.  It seemed so real.  But maybe it wasn’t.”  She paused.  “And now I feel like an idiot for feeling sorry for myself when he’s the one who’s been in danger.  And there’s still so much work to do.  I can’t afford to be distracted.”

“When the work is over, Chakotay will still be here,” B’Elanna offered.  “You can talk about it then.”

“What’s to talk about?  I’m not going to say anything to interfere in his relationship with Seven.  If they are happy together, then who am I to stand in their way or jeopardize their happiness?  I came on this mission to save their lives.  We accomplished that.  That has to be enough.”  Janeway paused for a long moment, lost in memories.  “Truth be told, B’Elanna, I’ve never been any good at relationships.  They’ve never worked out very well for me.  I had one very, very passionate, very connected, amazing relationship with my first fiance.  His death ended that before I could do anything to mess it up.  Mark and I had a very comfortable relationship, but it was basically a glorified friendship, and, well, you know how that ended.  And then Chakotay…”

“What about Chakotay?” B’Elanna encouraged.  

“I don’t believe in fate, or soulmates, or things that are ‘meant to be.’  But, I’ve thought many times over the years that if those things were real, if there was was one person I was ‘meant to be’ with, my ‘soulmate,’ that he was it.  The connection that we share is so deep, so real, yet mostly unspoken.  We share the same basic values, yet our approaches to life are so different, different in ways that complement each other.  We fuel each other, we inspire each other, and, yes, sometimes we piss each other off.  I always thought that when we got home, there would be a chance for us, but circumstances never allowed us to explore what our relationship could be.  I guess they never will.”

“Maybe they…” B’Elanna started.

Janeway held up a hand.  “No.  I can’t.  I can’t go down that path.  I can’t start to believe that maybe things will change, that maybe Chakotay and Seven will end it.  I have to accept things the way they are right now.  And the only way to do that is to know that what we have now is all we will ever have.  We will never explore that connection any deeper.  I will never hold his hand walking down the sidewalk.  I will never wake in his arms.  We will never share candlelit dinners or sit on the couch curled in each other’s arms.  In the Delta Quadrant, I learned to accept that I was alone and always would be.  That’s what I have to do now, too.”

“Captain… Kathryn,” B’Elanna said tentatively, “if that’s what you have to do for your own sanity, I understand.  Kahless knows, I’m an expert at protecting myself by shutting down my feelings and shutting down my ability to hope.  But when I stopped doing that, with Tom, that was when things started to change for me.”

“I know what you’re saying, B’Elanna, but Tom wasn’t involved with someone else.  With Chakotay and me, things are what they are, and I have to accept that.”  Janeway took a deep breath.  “The most important thing is that Chakotay is going to recover.  That’s all that really matters.  The rest, I can learn to live with.”

B’Elanna nodded.  “I understand.  And I hope you know that when things get tough, Tom and I are always here for you.  You’re not alone.  You’ve given us a lot of hope over the years.  I hope that someday I can return the favor.”

Janeway felt new tears spring to her eyes at B’Elanna’s unexpectedly kind statement.  She wrapped her arms around the younger woman and tried to blink back the tears.  “Thank you, B’Elanna.  Thank you.”  
  


* * *

  
The EMH entered the brig.  “I’m here to see Dr. Zupanich,” he told the lieutenant on duty.

“Right this way, sir,” the lieutenant replied, escorting the Doctor past cells full of personnel from the space station.

The Doctor took a deep breath.  This was his test.  Would he be able to convince Zupanich to testify against Garrett?  If he failed, Garrett would most likely escape punishment altogether.  Justice was riding on his shoulders.

Zupanich was seated in his cell and saw the Doctor approach.  “What do you want?” he spat.

“I just want to talk to you, Doctor,” said the EMH.

“We have nothing to discuss.”

“I think we do,” the EMH countered.  He stepped through the forcefield into Zupanich’s cell.  “You may leave us,” he told the lieutenant.  He nodded, leaving the Doctor alone with Zupanich.  

“What is it you have to say to me?”    

“I want to understand you,” the Doctor said quietly.  “Because I believe what you told me on the station, that you were really trying to help those people when you took away their individuality.  What I can’t understand is how a physician, sworn to do no harm, could do what you did in good conscience.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I want to help you, Torstin.  I want to understand what happened to you.”

“How could you possibly understand?  You don’t know.  You don’t know the pain of loss.”

The Doctor looked away.  “Is that what you think?”

“How could you?  You’re just a hologram.”

“I may be made of photons and forcefields, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.  My program was nearly shut down once because I let a patient die, and I couldn’t live with the emotional repercussions.  My captain suppressed my memories, but they resurfaced.  I had to learn to live with what I had done.”

“And how did you?” Zupanich asked, his defenses beginning to drop.

“Captain Janeway helped me.  She stayed by me while I dealt with my pain.  She listened while I talked about what I felt, until I started to feel better.”

Zupanich rolled his eyes.  “Talking?  Is that how you think you solve a problem?”

“It’s not a bad start.  You should try it sometime.”  Zupanich stood and walked to the far corner of the cell.  After a long moment of silence, the Doctor asked, “Who did you lose?”

When Zupanich finally spoke, his voice was harsh, grating, low.  “My son.  I lost my son.  I lost my son on my own operating table.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor replied, sudden emotion welling up inside him.  “I had a daughter once, who I couldn’t save.  It’s the worst part of being a physician, not being able to save the life of someone you love.”

“I warned him,” Zupanich said, his voice growing in intensity as he spoke.  “I warned him, but he didn’t listen.  Why didn’t he listen?”  He turned around and faced the Doctor, his features tortured.

The Doctor patted the bench next to him.  “Tell me about him, Torstin.  Tell me what happened.”

Slowly, Zupanich stepped towards the bench.  He sat down, but he didn’t look at the Doctor.  His eyes gazed in the direction of the forcefield, but he wasn’t seeing the inside of the brig.  He was seeing another time and another place, far away.  “When I was a young man, I believed that it was my duty to serve those who needed it the most.  I had grown up on Earth, had a medical degree from one of the best schools.  I could have become a doctor in Starfleet, taught at one of the best medical schools on Earth, or become a doctor at a fancy hospital with all the resources I could imagine.  But I read about the great need for doctors in the border colonies.  So I became a physician in the Federation colony on Juhraya.  Do you know anything about Juhraya, Doctor?”

“That was one of the colonies handed over to the Cardassians in the Federation-Cardassian Treaty of 2370, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re correct.  Before that, the colony at Juhraya was thriving.  The life was simple.  There wasn’t a lot of modern technology, but the people were amazing, and practicing medicine there was a joy.  It was like the stories you read about, in the old days, the village doctor that everyone knew and loved.  I met my wife there; she was a teacher.  We had a son, Kyosti.  Then, with the treaty, everything changed.  Not right away.  At first we all thought maybe it would be okay, that maybe the Cardassians wouldn’t bother us too much if we were friendly towards them.  But those were false and foolish hopes.  Things became worse and worse on Juhraya, and when Kyosti was seventeen years old, he decided to join the Maquis and fight for his homeland.”

The Doctor nodded, listening intently.  He had heard many similar stories from the Maquis crew members on Voyager over the years.

“I warned him not to go.  I begged him.  I told him it was a futile battle, that he would only be wounded or killed, that there was nothing we could do against a force as powerful as the Cardassians.  But he wouldn’t listen to me.  ‘I can think for myself, Pa,’ he said.”  Zupanich’s eyes began to fill with tears.  “He thought for himself, all right.  He thought himself right into an early grave when he tried to get in the way of a Cardassian who was beating one of our delinquent citizens.  Kyosti threw himself right in the middle of it, until he was beaten, too.  Beaten and bloody.  You can’t imagine, Doctor.  You can’t imagine what it’s like to see your own child bleeding to death on your operating table.”  The tears coursed down Zupanich’s face.  “I tried.  I tried everything I could to save him, but he had lost too much blood.  There were too many internal injuries.  There was nothing I could do.”  Zupanich buried his head in his hands, and his body shook from the sobs.

Tentatively, the Doctor reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “It wasn’t your fault that Kyosti died, Torstin,” he said quietly.

“I couldn’t save him,” Zupanich replied.  He stood suddenly and slammed his hand into the wall of brig.  “I couldn’t save him!”  He drew back his fist to strike the wall again.

“Stop!” the Doctor exclaimed, jumping up and restraining Zupanich.  “Hurting yourself won’t bring your son back.  You can’t bring him back, Torstin.”

Zupanich crumpled to the floor, all the fight suddenly going out of him.  “I know,” he sobbed.  “I know.”

The Doctor knelt next to him.  “And taking away someone else’s individuality is only going to hurt others.  Think about Kyosti, Torstin.  Think about him as you knew him, as you loved him.  Would you really want to take away his ability to think for himself?  Would he still have been the same person if you had been able to control his every choice?”

“No.  No, he wouldn’t have been Kyosti.  He wouldn’t have been who he was without his mind, without his ability to choose.”

“If you could bring him back as a mindless automaton, a drone, would you do it?”

“I want to say yes,” Zupanich replied, his tears slowing, “but, no.  You’re right, Doctor.  I would want my son to be himself, to be whole.  Otherwise, it wouldn’t be my son.”

“You can’t bring Kyosti back, but you can help another member of the Maquis right here, right now, someone who needs your help desperately.”

Zupanich wiped his face with his hands, wiping away the tears.  “Who’s that?”

“Commander Chakotay.  He fought with the Maquis, too, just like your son, and he is here and he is alive and he needs your help.”

“I don’t know how to reverse the procedure,” Zupanich said.  “By the time I figure it out, it will be too late for Commander Chakotay.”

“No, the commander is going to be fine.  With Seven’s help, and Captain Janeway’s, we’ve already reversed Garrett’s procedure.”

“Then how can I help him?”

“Testify,” the Doctor said, standing up and offering Zupanich his hand.  “Testify against Garrett.”

Zupanich took the proffered hand and let the Doctor help him to his feet.  “You’ve got to be joking,” he said.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” the Doctor replied dryly.

“You want me to testify against Admiral Vince Garrett?”

“We need you to testify.  Commander Chakotay needs you to testify.  You’re the only one who can prove that everything that happened on that station was Garrett’s idea, not yours.”

“Even if I do testify, it’s my word against his.”

“If you don’t testify, Garrett’s version of events will go unquestioned.  If you do testify, then testimony from Captain Janeway, Seven of Nine, and others will hold a lot more weight.  They’ll corroborate your story.  So will others on the station; Garrett was giving the orders, not you.”  The Doctor paused.  “If you refuse to testify, it’s almost certain that Admiral Garrett will go free.  Please, help bring him to justice.”

Zupanich crossed back over to the bench and sat down.  He took a deep breath and then looked up at the Doctor.  “All right, Doctor, I’ll testify.  But you and your colleagues need to understand one thing.  Vince Garrett is a powerful man.  Even if I do testify against him, he’s probably going to walk away unscathed.”  
  


* * *

  
“More coffee?” Picard asked Janeway as he stood from his desk to go to the replicator.

“Always,” Janeway replied.

Picard ordered, “Coffee, black,” and “Tea, earl grey, hot,” and then returned to the desk with both beverages.

“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” Janeway said, before returning to the PADD she’d been examining.  

“Commander Riker informs me that we are scheduled to arrive at Earth in forty-six hours.”

“Forty-six hours,” mused Janeway.  “That’s enough time for us to finish preparing for Garrett’s trial.  Tuvok has been prepping Dr. Zupanich for his testimony.  The doctor is nervous, but I think he’s going to be just fine.”

“We have a strong case against Garrett,” Picard assured her.

“We do.  But we have to be mindful of Garrett’s warning to me, and what Zupanich said to the Doctor.  I’ve asked Mr. Tuvok to keep an extra eye out.”

“I’ve asked my people to do the same.  Has Commander Tuvok had any more luck with Commander Teral?”

Janeway shook her head.  “She doesn’t want to talk.  I can’t understand it.  Her own government has clearly abandoned her.  They requested extradition of the rest of the crew but left her to the wolves, so to speak.  She’d get a much lighter sentence if she was willing to cooperate.”

“Perhaps she still believes she’ll be rescued.”

“Perhaps.”

The comm beeped.  “Crusher to Picard.”

“Picard here.”

“Captain, Lieutenant Hoffman is dead.  We attempted to use Seven’s nanoprobes to reverse the procedure as we did with Commander Chakotay, but the damage to his neural pathways was too severe.  He went into neural shock.”

Hoffman had been one of the two security guards assimilated into Garrett’s collective.  After Chakotay had been successfully cured, the EMH and Crusher had attempted the same procedure on both of Garrett’s lieutenants, hoping that one of them would be able to testify in Garrett’s trial.  It obviously wouldn’t be Hoffman, Janeway thought.

“I understand, Doctor,” said Picard.  “What about Garrett’s other lieutenant?”

“The nanoprobes still appear to be repairing Lieutenant Latham’s neural pathways.  The EMH and I think it’s possible that he will recover, but it’s still too early to tell.”

“Thank you, Doctor.  Keep me informed.  Picard out.”

Janeway took a deep breath.  How close had she come to losing Chakotay altogether?  “Well, that’s one fewer person who can testify against Admiral Garrett,” she said.

“Indeed.  Let’s hope that his other lieutenant survives.  How is Commander Chakotay?”

“I understand that he was released from sickbay yesterday,” Janeway said.  “The Doctor tells me his condition is much improved.”

“That’s good news,” said Picard.  

“Yes,” Janeway replied, allowing herself a small smile.  “Now we just have to get justice for what happened to him and Seven and so many others.”  

“With Hoffman dead, Garrett should be charged with murder,” Picard said.

“Yes,” Janeway agreed.  She thought about Captain Braxton’s warning to her, how in Admiral Janeway’s timeline, there was no one to stop Garrett.  _The results were disastrous.  I don’t think I need to tell you why._ She shivered.  “We have to make sure Vince Garrett is put in prison and stays there for a long time,” she said.  “If he goes free, you and I both know he’s going to find a way to continue his work, and then none of us will be safe.”


	11. X.

* * *

  **X.**

* * *

 

“Dr. Crusher informed me this morning that Lieutenant Latham has awoken from his coma,” Picard said to Janeway as they sat in his ready room, sharing yet another cup of their favorite beverages.  Over the past week, it had become a twice-daily routine for them, and both captains were grateful for the other’s company.  “He’s still weak, but he will be able to testify against Garrett.”

“Good,” Janeway replied.  “Tuvok says Zupanich will be ready.”

“What about you, Kathryn?  Are you ready?”

“Oh, I’m ready.  Ready to put that bastard in prison where he belongs.”

“Data to Picard,” the voice came over the comm.

“Go ahead, Commander.”

“Captain, we are approaching Earth.  Admiral Hayes is hailing you.”

“Put him through to my ready room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Picard tilted his monitor so that Janeway could see it as the call came through.

“Captain Picard, Captain Janeway, welcome home.”

“Thank you, sir,” Picard said.  “Am I to understand from your call that you have news for us?”

Hayes nodded.  “Captain Janeway, I’ve relayed your reports to the rest of the admiralty.  Everyone is extremely disturbed by the behavior of Admiral Garrett.  We’ve decided not to reprimand you or your crew for disobeying orders and trying to rescue Commander Chakotay and Seven of Nine.  It appears that there were extenuating and mitigating circumstances.  We all need to focus on convicting the actual villains here, not on punishing our own officers for trying to right a wrong.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Janeway said.  “That is good to hear.”

“However,” Hayes continued, “anyone with any knowledge of Admiral Garrett’s activities must be kept under quarantine until after the trial has ended.  The crew of the _Enterprise_ will be quarantined aboard the Enterprise.  All communications in and out of the ship will be monitored.  We will be providing secure quarters here at Starfleet Command for you, Captain Janeway, along with Commander Chakotay, Commander Tuvok, Lieutenants Torres and Paris, Ensign Kim and Seven of Nine.  All of your communications will be screened.  We don’t want any of this information getting out to the public or the media.”

Janeway’s expression darkened.  “You want to keep people from knowing the truth?”

“We want to mitigate the damage to Starfleet’s reputation as much as possible.  Ever since the Dominion War, there have been questions about Starfleet’s competence.  The last thing we need is an uproar about how the admiralty is incompetent.”

Janeway opened her mouth to say something, but a warning glance from Picard stopped her.

“Understood, Admiral,” said Picard.

“I’ll have my aide coordinate your disembarkment personally to ensure that it goes as smoothly as possible.”

“Thank you,” said Janeway, finding her voice again.

“I’ll see you both at the trial.  Hayes out.”

Hayes’ face was replaced by the Starfleet emblem and Janeway and Picard shared a long glance.  “Thanks, Jean-Luc,” said Janeway.  “You probably stopped me from saying something I would regret later.”

“Politics is my least favorite part of being a captain,” he replied, “but it is a necessary one.”

“Fortunately, that’s one thing I haven’t had to deal with over the last seven years.”

“I think that time is over, Kathryn.”

“Bridge to Picard.”  It was Riker’s voice.

“Picard here.”

“We’ve dropped into orbit around Earth, sir.  Starfleet is signaling that they’re ready for Captain Janeway and her crew to disembark.”

“Coordinate with them, Number One, and inform the crew that they’re going to be placed under quarantine until Admiral Garrett’s trial is over.”

“Understood, sir,” Riker replied.

Janeway stood.  “I’m going to inform my crew of the situation.”  She paused before exiting the ready room.  “In case I haven’t told you, Jean-Luc, thank you, for everything.”  Picard nodded with a small smile, and Janeway headed for sickbay first.

Both Dr. Crusher and the EMH greeted her when she entered.  “I hear our patient is feeling better.”

Crusher nodded to the bed where Lieutenant Latham was sitting up, reading a PADD.  “You may speak to him, Captain.”

Janeway approached the biobed.  “Lieutenant Latham?  I’m Captain Janeway.”

“Hello,” the young man said, his eyes darting around sickbay nervously.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” she assured him, offering a comforting smile.  “Do you remember me?  I was in Admiral Garrett’s collective with you.”

Latham squinted, trying to access his memories.  “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he said, “everything’s a little bit fuzzy right now.”

“I understand from Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher that you’re willing to testify against Admiral Garrett.”

Latham nodded.  “At first I was just following orders, but then, what they did to me…  Now, when I think about it, it’s like I’m remembering a dream, or seeing a projection of someone else.”  He paused, squinting again.  “I remember shooting at people, in a cargo bay on the station.  Shooting at other Starfleet officers.”

“That’s right,” said Janeway.  

“I’m so sorry, Captain.  So sorry for everything I did.”

Janeway put her hand on the young man’s shoulder.  “It wasn’t your fault, Lieutenant.  You were being controlled and manipulated by Admiral Garrett, and we are going to see that he goes away for a very long time.”

Latham nodded.  “Thank you, Captain.”

Janeway squeezed Latham’s shoulder and walked away from his biobed to talk to the Doctor.  In hushed tones, she informed him of the quarantine and then asked him about Latham’s psychological state.  “Is he strong enough, emotionally, to testify?”

“He’s still recovering, Captain,” the Doctor explained, “but he’s already made a great deal of progress since yesterday.  I think in a couple of days, he’ll be strong enough.”

“Thank you, Doctor.  I’m going to inform the rest of the crew of the situation.  I’ll see you on Earth.”  Janeway made her way to crew quarters, where she informed Tuvok, Paris and Torres of the situation.  Tuvok was predictably stoic, B’Elanna predictably incensed over the quarantine.

As she stood outside Chakotay’s temporary quarters, her hand hesitated above the door chime.  She had stopped in to see Chakotay a few times since his release from sickbay to find out how he was doing.  Twice, their visit had been interrupted by Seven’s arrival, and Janeway had made a hasty excuse to leave.  The other time, they had not been interrupted, but had kept the conversation to safe topics: how Chakotay was feeling, Janeway’s latest comm meeting with the admiralty, the picture of Miral that Admiral Paris had sent to Tom that day.  

Kathryn longed to ask Chakotay what he remembered from their link, whether he remembered any of the intense memories they had shared, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up, so she remained silent, allowing him to drive the conversation, or bringing up topics that were easy to discuss.  With a sigh, she rang the door chime.

“Come in,” she heard.  She entered Chakotay’s quarters to find him seated on the sofa, holding Seven’s hand.  

“Captain,” Seven greeted her.  “Please come in.”  Seven gestured to the quarters as though they were hers.  “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” Kathryn replied politely.  “I can’t stay long.”

“Please, Kathryn, sit down,” said Chakotay, gesturing to the empty chair across from him and Seven.

Trying not to appear reluctant, Janeway sat down.  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Much better,” Chakotay replied, “thanks to you.”

“And the Doctor, and Seven,” Janeway added.

“Yes,” Seven agreed, “but you were the one who truly saved Chakotay’s life.  Now, he’s getting stronger every day.”  Seven’s free hand moved to Chakotay’s thigh.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Janeway replied, carefully schooling her emotions.

“Has the admiralty made a decision yet about whether or not you’ll be reprimanded for your actions?” Chakotay asked, bringing up a topic from one of their previous conversations.

“I just spoke to Admiral Hayes.  They’ve decided not to reprimand me or anyone else who came after you and Seven.  They want to focus on dealing with Garrett and Zupanich.”

Chakotay grinned.  “For once, the admiralty is focusing on the right thing.”

“Actually, that’s what I came here to talk to you about, my conversation with Admiral Hayes.  Starfleet has decided that until Garrett’s trial is over, we’re all to be quarantined at Starfleet Headquarters.  All our communications will be monitored.”

Chakotay’s grin disappeared.  “Starfleet doesn’t want any bad publicity.”

“Exactly,” Janeway replied.   Her eyes flicked to Seven’s hand, still resting on Chakotay’s thigh, and she stood.  “Commander Riker is coordinating our disembarkment.  You can speak to him about your temporary quarters at HQ.  I’ll see you both on Earth.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Seven.

“If you need anything, just let me know,” Janeway replied.  After a brief nod to both of them, she exited Chakotay’s quarters and made her way back to her own, putting the image of Seven and Chakotay together out of her mind.  She needed to focus on the challenge ahead, the trial of Admiral Vince Garrett.  


* * *

  
Admiral Garrett’s court martial took place in a closed court room.  Only witnesses, the prosecution, the defense and high ranking members of Starfleet were aware of the proceedings, along with Starfleet’s Judge Advocate General, Phillipa Louvois, and a panel of five admirals who would make the final verdict.  Garrett had elected to defend himself, although he had a member of Starfleet legal counsel at his side, per Starfleet regulations.  As a higher ranking officer than Garrett, Admiral Owen Paris would head the prosecution.

Paris sat at one table in front of the court room, and Garrett and his legal advisor sat at another.  Facing them sat Judge Advocate General Phillipa Louvois, who called the court to order.  She sat in the center of a long table flanked by the five admirals on the panel that would decide Garrett’s fate.

“The charges against you are severe, Admiral Garrett,” Louvois said sternly.  “They include assault in the first degree, murder in the first degree, and even extend to high treason against the United Federation of Planets.  How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” Garrett replied.

Owen Paris watched Garrett.  The expression on his face was smug, as if he was certain he would not be convicted.  From what Owen knew about the case, Garrett’s confidence seemed misplaced.

The first day of the trial consisted of a long line of witnesses, including personnel from the space station, medical experts who explained the nature of Borg nanoprobes and what they could do, and Starfleet admirals who testified that they had never heard of Garrett’s space station and had not authorized his plan.  

On the second day of the trial, Tuvok, Paris, Torres and Kim all testified to what they had seen and experienced — the moment they discovered that Chakotay and Seven had disappeared, the efforts spent searching for their whereabouts, and then, finally, all that had transpired aboard the space station.  They described the presence of the Romulan warbird protecting the station, and how they had been surprised to find a Romulan in command aboard the station.  Most of the _Enterprise_ senior staff was also called to testify about the battle between the Starfleet ships, the space station, and the Romulan ships.

On the third day, the first witness to be called before the court was Seven of Nine.  She recounted with admirable precision exactly what she had experienced starting from the moment she and Chakotay had been attacked in her apartment.  She described, in detail, awakening on the unfamiliar space station and having her nanoprobes forcibly removed and modified.  At Paris’ request, she explained that she had been instructed how to modify the nanoprobes and inject them into Chakotay and then Janeway.

“Who was it who instructed you to modify the nanoprobes, Seven?” Garrett asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“It was Dr. Zupanich,” Seven replied.

Garrett smiled; it was an ugly sight.  “No further questions,” he said, and leaned back.

The EMH and Dr. Crusher testified and presented extensive evidence on how Seven’s nanoprobes were used to modify the drones’ neural pathways, how they had been specifically engineered to erase a person’s individuality.  The EMH pointed out that the plans for these modifications would have taken years to develop; the project had been premeditated.

“Who gave you these schematics?” Garrett asked.

“Dr. Zupanich,” the Doctor was forced to reply.

Garrett sat back in his chair and smiled.

Several crewmen from the space station testified about their activities since being assigned there.  Most of them knew little about the station’s mission.  “Do you know who signed the order requesting your reassignment to the station?” Paris asked one young ensign.

“No, Sir.”

Paris presented a PADD to Louvois.  “I have the order here,” he said.  “It was Admiral Vince Garrett.”  Paris also provided the order that had tipped Janeway off after Chakotay and Seven’s disappearance, their “reassignment” by Admiral Garrett.  “Torstin Zupanich is not even a Starfleet officer,” Paris pointed out.  “He had no authority on that station or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Dr. Zupanich manipulated me!” Garrett protested.  “He used me.  I am innocent.”

“Admiral Garrett,” said Paris, “you can hardly play the victim here…”

“Order!” interjected Louvois.

“I am not playing!” Garrett replied, ignoring her.  “If Janeway and her pitiful crew hadn’t…”

“Order!  Order!” Louvois interrupted them as the rest of the occupants of the room began to murmur and react.  “Both parties will refrain from making personal remarks and insults in this court room.  Admiral Garrett, you will have ample opportunity to call witnesses and to testify on your own behalf.  I’m instructing the panel to disregard these outbursts.”  The observers quieted, and Louvois had control of the room once again.  “The prosecution may now call its next witness.”

Paris stood.  “I call Dr. Torstin Zupanich.”  As he spoke, he allowed his eyes to dart to Garrett.  From the expression on Garrett’s face, he could tell that Garrett didn’t believe Zupanich would testify.  When Zupanich did enter the room, escorted by Tuvok, Garrett’s face dropped, and for the first time that day, his expression showed a hint of fear.

Zupanich approached the witness stand slowly, but Paris could see the resolve in his eyes.  Zupanich reached the witness stand and took the necessary oaths.  Then, he sat down, his hands folded in his lap, his dark eyes clear and focused.  He was purposefully not looking at Garrett.

“Dr. Zupanich,” Paris said, “we have heard testimony from Admiral Garrett that the modification of human Starfleet officers into unthinking drones was your idea, that you gave all the orders and that the project was masterminded by you.  Doctor, is this true?”

“No, Admiral.”

“Please tell the court what did happen, and how you came to be involved with this project of converting Starfleet officers into drones.”

In an almost emotionless monotone, Zupanich recounted the story of how he had come to live on a Federation border colony, of his son’s death, and of the devastation he had experienced after that event.  “After Kyosti’s death, I was aimless.  My wife was killed by the Cardassians shortly thereafter, and I was left alone.  I couldn’t bear to remain on Juhraya any longer.  I managed to book passage on a shuttle, and then I just drifted from outpost to outpost.  One night, I was in a bar, trying to forget my troubles, and there was a bar fight.  One of the patrons was severely wounded.  Without thinking, I jumped in and somehow, I managed to save his life.  Admiral Garrett happened to be in that bar that night.”  For the first time since he had taken the stand, Zupanich’s eyes flicked to Garrett.  “After the incident was over and the man had been taken to the local hospital, Garrett pulled me aside.  He bought me a drink.  He found out who I was and what my training was, and why I had abandoned medicine.  He asked me to meet him the next day.”

“Did you?” Paris asked.

Zupanich nodded.  “I met him the next day, and the next day, and the day after that.  Slowly, Garrett learned everything about me, and he started to reveal himself to me, too.  I learned that he was a Starfleet admiral on a covert assignment.  He told me that his mission was to improve the efficiency of Starfleet.  He said he had a brilliant plan but that he needed a doctor of my expertise to be able to execute it.”

“Did he tell you what his plan was?”

“Not right away.  But gradually he began to ask me if I believed that people should be able to make their own choices, or if young people’s lives would be better if their choices were controlled by someone who knew better than they did, someone with more knowledge, more experience.  I couldn’t help thinking about Kyosti, how his life could have been saved if I could have prevented his choice.  Garrett told me that there were other young men like Kyosti out there, young men who needed my help and my protection.  He asked me if I would help them.”  Zupanich paused.  “I agreed.”

“Tell us what happened next, Doctor.”

Zupanich continued his account of his relationship with Garrett.  He told the judge how Garrett had tested his medical skills by asking him to perform various tasks, and then how Garrett had finally taken him to a cloaked space station and offered him a position there for a hefty salary.  “Garrett had been inspired by the Borg,” Zupanich explained.  “He thought that the Collective had something that Starfleet lacked.”  Zupanich described the years of dedication and effort that it had taken him to figure out how to use Borg nanoprobes to rewrite human neural pathways.  He described failed tests on human subjects, subjects that he had found in destitute border colonies, who were willing to risk their lives on the chance that the research was successful and that they would be well paid.  “We did some research using nanoprobes from dead drones, when we could, and otherwise, we used holodeck simulations.”  Zupanich described Garrett’s discovery that _Voyager_ had returned home with a living Borg drone aboard.  “He came to me one day, very excited,” Zupanich said.  “‘This is our chance!’ he told me, ‘Our chance to act now.  We’ll have access to all technology we need as long as we can get our hands on Seven of Nine.’”  Zupanich paused.  “Those were his exact words.”  

Paris asked Zupanich to describe the events that had occurred once Chakotay and Seven of Nine were aboard the station.  His account matched Seven’s almost verbatim and filled in many of the details that she could not.

“Finally, Doctor,” Paris said, “what made you decide to testify here today?”

Zupanich’s eyes went to the floor before returning back to Paris.  “Admiral, I realized that I made a grave error.  I should never have agreed to help Admiral Garrett in the first place.  No matter how much I may disagree with another man’s choice, it’s wrong for me to rob him of his right to choose.  Yes, Kyosti might have been alive had I been able to make his choices for him, but he also would not have been the young man I loved so much had he not been able to choose for himself, and to choose what he chose.”  Zupanich swallowed hard.  “I came here to set the record straight and to atone for the mistakes I made.”

Louvois nodded her understanding and asked Paris if he had any further questions for the witness.  Paris declined, his eyes shifting to Garrett.  Garrett’s eyes narrowed and his gaze shifted to Zupanich in a deadly glare.  Paris felt certain, in that moment, that Zupanich’s life, and maybe their entire case, was in danger.

“Doctor, did I ever program a nanoprobe in your lab?” Garrett asked, his tone even.

“No, Admiral.”

“Do you think I have the medical expertise to program a nanoprobe?”

“No, Admiral.”

“Did you, in fact, manipulate me to serve your own ends?”

“No, I did not.”

“Were you not, in fact, so broken up by Kyosti’s death that you had decided no one should be able to make their own choices, not even me?”

“No!” Zupanich cried.  “That’s not true.”

“Did you not use me, manipulate me, to serve your agenda?”

“Objection!” Paris stated.  “Asked and answered.”

Louvois nodded.  “Sustained.  Admiral Garrett, do you have any new questions for the witness?”

With a grimace, Garrett shook his head and sat down.

“Redirect, Your Honor,” said Paris.

Louvois agreed, and Paris approached Zupanich once again.  “Dr. Zupanich,” he said, “if your goal was not to create an army of drones, then why did you continue to work with Admiral Garrett on the project?”

“That was my mistake,” Zupanich admitted.  “At first I thought I was doing the right thing.  ’How can we make human lives better?’ is what Admiral Garrett always asked me.  I kept thinking of Kyosti, how I wished there was some power by which I could have stopped him from choosing a path that led to his own destruction.  I thought that if I could create a way to stop young men like him from making bad choices, I could make a better world.  But when I saw the results of my own experiments, I was horrified.  I didn’t understand that by taking away a man’s ability to make a bad choice, I was taking away his ability to make any choice at all.  Once Garrett had the drones under his control, I was too afraid of him to step away.  He had other human beings under his absolute control.  He could have had them kill me or torture me at any moment.  I was terrified for my life.  I had to continue working for him.  I may have had a miserable life and done some terrible things, but I’m not ready to die, Admiral Paris.”    

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Paris.  He turned to Luvois.  “No further questions.”

Luvois dismissed Zupanich, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped down from the stand, but Paris knew that the doctor’s fight was far from over.  The look in Garrett’s eyes as he watched Zupanich leave the court room was almost predatory.

Admiral Paris called Lieutenant Latham as the next witness.  He was still weak from his injuries and had to use a hoverchair to enter the courtroom.  Paris took advantage of the time it took Latham to reach the stand and get settled to gesture to one of his aides who was standing off to the side of the room.   “Contact Admiral Henry,” he whispered to the ensign.  “Have him arrange a protection detail for Dr. Zupanich.”

“Yes, sir,” said the ensign, hurrying out of the room.

Lieutenant Latham was settled on the stand, and Admiral Paris asked him about his assimilation.  

“It all seems like a bad dream,” Latham said of being part of Garrett’s collective.  “I had no choices, no ability to decide for myself what was right or wrong.  Now, when I look back, those weeks are a blur.  I can barely even remember what I did.  The only thing I can remember is Admiral Garrett’s voice in my mind, and feeling compelled to obey him.”

“Are you certain of whose voice you heard in your mind?” Paris asked.

Latham nodded.  “It was Admiral Garrett’s.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Paris said.

Garrett stood.  “Lieutenant Latham, can you please tell the court how you came to be on my station?”

Latham cleared his throat uncomfortably.  “I, uh, volunteered, sir.”

“Why did you volunteer for the assignment?  Was it because you wanted to do harm your fellow Starfleet officers?”

“No, sir,” Latham replied adamantly.  “I volunteered for the assignment because I understood that there was experimental training on the station, training to help improve Starfleet as a whole.”

“I see.  So you volunteered for this assignment for the betterment of Starfleet.  And who are you to say that your actions will not, in the long run, help the betterment of Starfleet?”

“Objection,” Paris said, standing.  “Speculative.”

“That question is not relevant to the proceedings, Admiral,” said Luvois sternly.  “We are here to hear the lieutenant’s version of events, not question his ability to comment on them.”

Garrett smiled.  “It’s all right, Admiral Luvois.  The question was rhetorical.”

Paris studied Garrett for a moment.  He was starting to get a glimpse of the other admiral’s new strategy.  He might not be able to prove that Zupanich was responsible for the assimilations instead of him, but he was still going to try to get away with what he had done by claiming that he had been acting in Starfleet’s best interest.  “Redirect, your honor,” Paris said.  Luvois nodded.

“Lieutenant Latham, if you’d had full knowledge of what the assignment entailed, would you still have volunteered?”

“No, sir,” Latham replied.

“No further questions,” Paris said, and sat down.

Latham was dismissed, and Chakotay was called to the stand.  He recounted what had happened to him, the details of his story aligning perfectly with what the court had already heard from Seven and Dr. Zupanich.  He spoke about his experience in the link, echoing Latham’s sentiments that the experience had been nightmarish.  “When I look back now,” he said, “I wasn’t myself anymore.  I looked like me, and sounded like me, but everything that makes me ‘me’ was taken from me.”

“Commander, you now appear before this court whole and healed, so it may be hard for Admiral Luvois to imagine the nature of your injuries.  _Voyager_ ’s EMH and Dr. Crusher have already presented evidence on the severity of your condition, but will you please tell the court what your state was only a few weeks ago?”

“When Captain Janeway rescued me from Admiral Garrett’s station, I had no memory of who I was.  I was incapable of any action, thought or speech other than following orders.  I had completely lost all my faculties.  That I am sitting here before you and able to speak to you today is only due to the medical genius of the EMH, and the intervention of Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway.”

Garrett remained silent through Chakotay’s testimony.  Paris asked Chakotay the same question he had asked Latham — “Whose voice did you hear giving you orders through the link?”

Chakotay’s answer had been the same as Latham’s.  “Admiral Garrett.”   Chakotay stepped down from the stand without a single question from Garrett.

Next, Paris called Kathryn Janeway to the stand.  Janeway entered the court room, as witnesses were only allowed to remain in the room and observe after they had given their testimony.  She took the appropriate oaths and sat down.

Paris stood and approached.  “Captain, please tell the court how you came to know Admiral Vince Garrett.”

Janeway described how Garrett had come aboard _Voyager_ with orders to dismantle the ship, how he had been less than forthcoming about his intentions, and how she had snuck aboard the ship late one night to try and learn his intentions.

“Weren’t you worried about the consequences to your career?” Paris asked.  “Or about disobeying a direct order not to board _Voyager_?”

“I expressed my concerns to the admiralty,” Janeway said, “as you well know, sir.  However, it seemed that Admiral Garrett was somehow protected by Starfleet, and my concerns seemed to go unheard.  I know that what I did was wrong, but I was more concerned about the safety of the Federation than I was about my own career.”

“And what did you learn?”

“I learned that Admiral Garrett was planning to create a collective of drones.”

“How did you learn this information?”

“I overheard a conversation between Admiral Garrett and Commander Teral.”

“Objection!” Garrett said.  “Hearsay!”

“Admiral Paris?” Louvois asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We have proof of this conversation, Your Honor.”  Paris handed a small device to Admiral Luvois.  “I’d like to introduce exhibit forty-one.  Admiral, this data chip contains a conversation between Admiral Garrett and a woman, whom voice printing has confirmed to be the Romulan commander, Teral.  The data chip is a copy that Captain Janeway made of the original recording she made aboard _Voyager_.  We request permission to play a part of the recording for the court.”

“So ordered,” said Luvois.

Paris activated the small device, and Garrett’s voice emerged: “Commander, our drones are going to be superior to even anything the Borg could create.”  

The atmosphere in the court room thickened.  Hearing Garrett’s voice speak about the drones gave everyone in the room pause.

“Captain, if you had this evidence against Admiral Garrett, why did you not go directly to the rest of the admiralty with it?” Paris asked, wanting to get the question out into the open before Garrett did.

“Admiral Garrett threatened to have members of my crew extradited to Cardassia and imprisoned there,” Janeway replied, tight-lipped.  Across the courtroom, she saw Chakotay’s reaction; he had not known this.

“Did you have reason to believe that the admiral would make good on this threat?” Paris asked.

“It seemed that Admiral Garrett had connections in high places.  I wasn’t sure what he was capable of, and it wasn’t a risk I was prepared to take.”

Paris continued to ask Janeway about what had happened, how she had discovered that Chakotay and Seven were missing, her decision to go after them in spite of what Starfleet might think, his own suggestion that she take a leave of absence.  She described how they had discovered Garrett’s cloaked station, and then how she had narrowly escaped becoming a drone herself thanks to Seven’s ingenuity.  She described to the court the link she had experienced and how she had heard Garrett’s orders in her mind.  She described the state they had found Chakotay in and the long and arduous process of bringing him back to his true self.  Finally, Paris sat down, with no further questions for her.

Garrett stood.  “You knew about my project before you left Earth, didn’t you?”

“I had suspicions, but I had no real proof, only the recording of the conversation that I overheard between you and Commander Teral.”

“Why didn’t you go to the admiralty with the copy of the recording you made?  Why wait until now to reveal that you had it?”

Janeway's eyes narrowed.  “You threatened my crew with imprisonment, maybe even death.”

“Even if that’s true,” Garrett said casually, “surely the fate of one or two crewmen isn’t as important as exposing me would be, if I am indeed as dangerous as you say.”

“I needed proof of what you were doing.  I couldn’t risk the lives of my crew without hard evidence.”

“Perhaps.”

“What are you implying, Admiral Garrett?” Paris asked.

“I’m only suggesting that Captain Janeway could have come forward with this so-called evidence before now, yet she didn’t.  Why didn’t you, Captain?  What’s the real reason?  Was it because you secretly approved of my project?”

“Objection!” Paris exclaimed.  “Asked and answered.”

Janeway held up a hand and exchanged a glance with Paris.  “It’s all right,” she said.  “I want to answer.”  She glanced at Luvois for permission, and the admiral nodded.  Janeway looked him straight in the eye.  “At the time, I didn’t know the full scope of your project.  I had no idea that you would kidnap two of my crew or that you were subjecting Starfleet officers to experiments.  All I knew was that you had plans to create Borg drones, and that you had threatened the lives of those I held most dear.  I still had hope that there would be another way to stop you, perhaps through official channels.  It was only after you kidnapped Chakotay and Seven of Nine that I realized their lives were in danger, anyway.  When Starfleet wouldn’t answer any of my questions, I knew I had to take action on my own.  This trial is the first opportunity since then that I’ve had to bring this evidence to light.  Believe me, if I had known what you were doing, I would have brought this recording straight to the top.”

“A likely story, Janeway,” said Garrett.  “I know your kind.  You…”

“Objection!” said Paris.

“Sustained,” Luvois said.  “Admiral Garrett, this is not the first time I’ve asked you to refrain from insults in the court room.  If you have no further questions for this witness, the witness may step down.”

Garrett glared, but said nothing, and Luvois dismissed Janeway from the witness stand.  Luvois chose that moment to call a 15-minute recess.  

Janeway approached Admiral Paris.  “How’s it going?” she asked.

Quietly, Paris filled her in on Zupanich’s testimony.  “Everything that Zupanich said lined up perfectly with testimony from Commander Chakotay and Seven of Nine.  That helps our case a lot.”

“What’s your estimation of Garrett?” Janeway asked.  “He’s not acting like a man who’s losing.”

“No, he’s not.  Garrett’s not defeated yet.  He still thinks he can win.  And the way he looked at Zupanich when he came off the stand was scary.  I’ve had Admiral Henry give Zupanich a protection detail.”  Paris caught the glance of another admiral beckoning him over.  “Excuse me, Kathryn,” he said.

Janeway nodded.  She wanted to leave the court room for a few minutes, anyway.  As she made her way through the room, she found Chakotay waiting for her at the door.  “Want to get some air?” he asked.

“Yes.”  He fell into step beside her, and they exited the building together.  She drew strength from his steady steps beside hers, from his presence at her side where he had been for so many years.

“You were great up there, Kathryn,” he said softly once they were outside on Starfleet grounds.  The day was warm and sunny, and they blended in easily with the myriad of other Starfleet officers walking through the courtyard.

She glanced up at him.  “Do you really think so?”

“I know so.  Garrett never stood a chance against Kathryn Janeway.  Admiral Paris will win the case for sure.”

The pride in Chakotay’s voice was unmistakable, and Kathryn felt a blush rising in her cheeks.  “I’m not so sure, Chakotay,” she admitted.  “I spoke to Owen, and he agrees that Garrett seems a little too cocky.”  She lowered her voice even more.  “Admiral Paris asked for a protection detail for Dr. Zupanich.”

“You think he’s in danger?”

“I think we all are.”

“Garrett is under 24-hour surveillance.  He can’t go anywhere, do or say anything without Starfleet knowing about it.”

Janeway bit her lower lip.  “I know, I know.  But there’s still something about the whole thing that doesn’t make sense to me.  Garrett’s too confident.  He has something up his sleeve; I’m just not sure what it is.”

“Well, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you and Admiral Paris.”

She allowed herself a small smile.  “Thank you for that.  I hope you’re right.”  She paused for a moment before changing the subject.  “What about you, Chakotay?  How are you feeling about your testimony?”

“It felt good to talk about what happened to me.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”  She paused.  “Well, we should probably be getting back.”

“Yes.”  They headed back towards the court room.  “Kathryn, when this is all over, I’d like to spend some time together.  Not in a court room I mean.”

Kathryn bit back the response that was on the tip of her tongue, _But what about Seven?_   And instead replied, “Yes, we’ll see if we can make the time.”

Chakotay looked at her and furrowed his brow.  It was not the enthusiastic response he had been hoping for, but now was not the time to press the issue.  Before he had time to think about it any more, they were back in the court room and Garrett’s trial continued.

“Now,” Luvois said when everyone had returned to the court room, “it is unusual in these proceedings for the defendant to be representing himself.  Generally, we recommend legal counsel.  Admiral Garrett, since you have refused to have Starfleet legal counsel represent you, how would you like to proceed?”

Garrett called several character witnesses, people who claimed to know him and defended his motives, his loyalty to Starfleet and his sense of honor and duty.  Janeway found it odd that none of them were of the admiralty although there were a few Starfleet officers on the list.  Then, Garrett called himself to testify.

“Admirals,” he said, addressing Luvois and the panel directly, “the court has heard that I plotted and planned to hurt Starfleet officers by taking away their individuality.  I have even been charged with the murder of a man under my command as well as treason against the Federation.  But think about what I did.  I recruited Dr. Torstin Zupanich, a brilliant physician, to work for Starfleet.  The work we have done together has hundreds of medical applications that could make life better for so many.  Think about using nanoprobes to repair brain damage or cure previously incurable diseases.  All of Dr. Zupanich’s work can be applied in those circumstances.  He never would have been able to do his research if not for me.

“I created a group of Starfleet officers that functioned seamlessly, more efficiently than any Starfleet crew on record.  I have documented evidence from holodeck battle simulations and repair crews on board the station.  Every test we ran showed that the drones performed more quickly and efficiently than an unaltered Starfleet crew would have.  My work has the potential to increase Starfleet’s productivity and efficiency by over fifty percent.  

“Admiral Paris argues that a man’s individuality was taken away, but isn’t that a small price to pay for the betterment of the entire Federation?  Think how many more civilizations around the galaxy we could help if we could increase efficiency and productivity that much?  Think what a positive impact we could make.  The admiral wants to brand me as a murderer, but I am doing what is best for the entire Federation.  Surely the individuality of a few people is worth the sacrifice to make the entire galaxy a better place.  Admiral Paris argues that I am evil for initiating this project, when in fact, Captain Janeway is the one who is in the wrong.  She was selfishly willing to put the lives of her friends above the good of the entire Federation.  It is Captain Janeway who is selfish, concerned about only a few individuals, while I, I am working for the good of the whole.”

As she sat in the court room listening to Garrett, Janeway felt a chill go down her spine as his true strategy came to light.  He wasn’t going to try and convince the court that he hadn’t created an army of drones.  The evidence against him was too overwhelming.  No, he was going to try and convince the court that he had been right to do what he had done, while she was the one whose motives were questionable.

“Admiral Garrett,” said Paris, “you claim that Zupanich’s research was medically motivated.  Have you or Dr. Zupanich applied any of his research to a medical situation, other than creating the drones on the station?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean the research couldn’t be applied that way.”

“Did Lieutenant Michael Hoffman work under your command at the space station?”

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that Lieutenant Hoffman died because of the procedure you had performed on him, the procedure that turned him into a drone?”

“It’s my understanding that Lieutenant Hoffman died as a result of the fact that you severed him from my collective.”

“If he had never been in your collective, it wouldn’t have been an issue in the first place.  Hoffman was damaged by your procedure.  Trying to heal a wound and failing is not the same as causing the wound in the first place.”

Garrett did not respond, staring at Paris defiantly.

“The court has heard part of a tape in which you discuss your plans to create drones with a Romulan commander, Teral.  Just what was your relationship with Commander Teral, Admiral?” Paris asked.

“Commander Teral and I embarked on a joint venture to benefit both the Romulans and the Federation.”

“Don’t you mean you set out to create a dictatorship in which you would have ruled the Federation and the Romulan Empire with your drone army?” Paris asked.

“No, Admiral, I don’t.”

“How did you meet Commander Teral?”

“She contacted me, covertly, about a year ago.  She asked to meet and told me she had something of value to me.”

“How was she able to contact you?”

“She contacted me under an assumed identity through my position as head of the Advanced Technologies Division.  She did not reveal to me that she was a Romulan, but told me she had valuable technology that she wanted to share with me.”

“And when you met her and discovered she was a Romulan?”

“Naturally, I was suspicious, as any Starfleet admiral would be,” Garrett replied with an air of bravado.  He changed his tone to a conspiratorial whisper.  “But when we met, Commander Teral revealed to me that she intended to defect from the Empire.”

“And you believed her?”

“She had left the Empire and was prepared to offer me secret technology.  I had no reason not to believe her claims, and the technology she offered was indispensable to my project.”

“You also had no way of knowing she was not a spy, did you?”

“I was presented with information.  I had to make a choice how to use it,” said Garrett.

“That’s ironic, considering that your entire project was designed to take away other people’s abilities to make choices.”

“Objection!” cried Garrett.  “Relevance!”

“Admiral Paris, please restrict yourself to direct questions for the witness,” Luvois reprimanded him.

Paris collected his thoughts and started again.  “What was the technology that Commander Teral offered you?”

“The shielding and cloaking technology for the space station,” Garrett admitted.

“Technology that is illegal in the Federation,” Paris pointed out.  “How do you explain your use of illegal cloaking technology?”

“Our work had to be protected.  Romulans, Cardassians, the Breen, the Borg… any of them might have wanted to steal our research before it was completed.  We had to be protected.  The work had to be protected.”

“That does not change the fact that you took illegal actions,” Paris replied pointedly.

“But I did it for the good of the Federation.  For the good of Starfleet.”  

Janeway watched Garrett from the second row of the court room.  Garrett’s tone was pleading; he knew that his defense was weakening.

“Do you deny that you engaged in treason against the Federation by conspiring with an agent of the Romulan Empire?” Admiral Paris asked.

“Commander Teral was a defector, not an agent of the Romulan Empire!” Garrett said loudly and stridently.  “The fact that the Empire has taken no interest in her whereabouts and did not want her extradited with the other Romulans serves as proof of this.”

“If Commander Teral was in fact a defector, then what were two Romulan warbirds doing at the station and why did they fire on Starfleet vessels?”

“I have no idea,” Garrett replied, his voice becoming even more strained.  “I didn’t even know there were Romulan warbirds near the station.  As far as I knew, Commander Teral was the only Romulan there.  I was shocked when the warbirds decloaked.”

“Do you expect this court to believe that you were working with Commander Teral but didn’t know that she had ordered two Romulan warbirds to protect your station?”

“I didn't know about the warbirds!” Garrett shouted.

“Then how do you explain their presence?”

“I can’t explain it, Admiral,” replied Garrett, beginning to regain control of his emotions.  “All I can think is that Commander Teral planned to betray me, that she ordered the warbirds to come to the station to attack, but that they never got the chance because the Enterprise arrived.”

“Do you have any proof of that, Admiral?” Paris asked.

“Since I didn’t know anything about it, I don’t know how I could have any proof.”  Garrett’s eyes darted from Paris to Luvois to Janeway.  “Why don’t you want to ask me about our efficiency tests?” Garrett asked.  “About how productive our drones were?  About all the good I was going to do for Starfleet?  You just want to ignore the evidence!”

“I’m not ignoring the evidence,” said Paris.  “But it’s not relevant to this proceeding.  The question is whether or not you violated Federation law, whether or not your actions led to the murder of Lieutenant Michael Hoffman, and whether or not you betrayed the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet.”

“I did not betray Starfleet,” Garrett said, his voice rising to a fever pitch.  “I have acted for the good of Starfleet.  It is Captain Janeway whose actions were against the good of Starfleet!  She is the one who is selfish, who is ignoring the needs of everyone.”

“Admiral Garrett…”

Admiral Louvois banged her gavel on the table.  “Gentlemen,” she said, interrupting the argument, “there is no question on the table for this witness.  Admiral Paris, do you have any further questions for this witness?”

"No further questions.”

“Admiral Garrett, you may step down.”

“But I…”

“Admiral Garrett!” Luvois said sharply.  “Step down from the witness stand.”  After leveling a glare at Luvois, Garrett obeyed.  “Now, if there are no additional witnesses…”

Paris stood suddenly.  “I’d like to recall Captain Janeway.”

“Very well,” said Luvois.

“Objection!” Garrett exclaimed.

“Admiral Garrett, you opened the door for this one.  You hardly have grounds to object.”

Janeway took the witness stand for the second time that day.  She was seething after listening to what Garrett had said about her.  

“Captain,” Paris began, “Admiral Garrett has claimed that his actions are justifiable because they were performed for the good of Starfleet, whereas your actions were not motivated by the good of Starfleet.  Could you please clarify your motivation?”

“Of course, Admiral,” Janeway said, fighting to keep her voice calm.  “I acted in the interest of the basic principles of Starfleet and the Federation.  That is the principle of individual rights.  Admiral Garrett claims he acted for the good.  But what is the good?  Who determines what is good, and how?”  She paused.  “You see, that is the value of individuality.  I am able to make my own decisions about what is the right course of action for my life.  As long as those decisions don’t infringe upon your right to do the same, I can do what I decide is right for me.  But how can I know the right course of action for Lieutenant Paris, or Commander Chakotay?  I am not them.  I do not share their needs or their desires.  I may or may not share their view of what is ‘good.’  ‘Good’ can only be determined in one way, by a thinking mind.  Only an individual can think; a drone can’t do that.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Paris said, sitting down.

Garrett stood.  “Captain, do you honestly think you can trust people to know what is good for themselves?  Most people are too stupid to know what to do.  They make bad decisions.  They question orders.  They don’t obey.  This is what’s wrong with Starfleet.”

“No.  It’s what’s right with Starfleet.  I value the opinions of my crew, even when they differ from mine.  That’s how we grow as human beings, Admiral, by looking at a problem or a situation from someone else’s point of view, by trying to understand what they see or how they see it.  Part of what makes Starfleet so strong is that it encompasses many races, many individuals, with many points of view.  You say that most people are too stupid to make their own decisions.”  Her gaze shifted to Luvois and each of the admirals on the panel.  “Are you really suggesting that individuals who have studied at Starfleet Academy, been on assignments, been promoted through the ranks, are not capable of making their own decisions?  Who is to decide for them, Admiral Garrett?  You?”

“Yes, me.”  Garrett’s voice rose, and he was beginning to lose his composure.  “I know.  I know what is best for them.  I know what is best for everyone.  I know what would make the world a better place!  If everyone would just shut up and obey!”  Garrett was shouting, now, starting to rise out of his chair, and he seemed to realize he’d made a tactical error.  He smoothed his uniform and sat down.

“The admirals on this panel?” Janeway asked.  “You think they should just shut up and obey, too?”

“I…”  Garrett paused, shrinking into his chair, suddenly unable to answer the question.

Admiral Paris stood, smiling.  “That’s all right, Admiral Garrett,” he said.  “I think you’ve already made your answer quite clear.”  Paris turned his attention to Luvois.  “I have no further questions for Captain Janeway.”  He glanced at Garrett.  “And I don’t think Admiral Garrett does either.”

Luvois dismissed Janeway from the witness stand, who returned to the benches in the court room.  She sat down next to Chakotay and felt him reach over to give her hand a brief squeeze.

“If there are no further witnesses from either party,” said Luvois, “the panel will retire to consider our verdict.”

“No further witnesses, Admiral,” said Paris.  “The prosecution rests.”

Garrett sat at his table, stunned.  His legal advisor, who hadn’t spoken throughout the proceedings, looked around the court room awkwardly.  “The defense rests,” he finally said, in a shaky voice.

Janeway watched Luvois and the other judges leave the room, and then waited as Garrett’s legal advisor helped him out of his chair and out of the court room.  Only then did she stand and turn to face the people behind her.  Picard’s senior staff was there, and her own crew.  One by one, they all stood, and began to applaud.  

“Here’s to Captain Janeway!” said Tom Paris.  “And to my dad!”

Owen Paris grinned, and Janeway blushed and lowered her eyes.  “Thank you,” she said.  “Thank you all, but it’s not over yet.”  She looked back in the direction where the judges had gone.

“It will be, Captain!” said Tom, grinning.  He winked at the captain one more time before approaching his father to congratulate him on a job well done.

Everyone began to mill about the court room, chattering excitedly, and Chakotay enfolded Janeway in a warm embrace.  “You were wonderful, Kathryn!”

She hugged him tightly.  “Thanks.”  Then she saw Seven standing behind him and quickly released the hug, stepping away from him to give him and Seven their space.

“Captain,” said Seven, “it was, in fact, the value of individuality that was on trial today, was it not?”

“Yes, Seven.”

“Your defense was a strong one, and Admiral Paris did an excellent job of presenting the case.  I believe that the judges will convict Garrett.”

“I hope so.”

The judges did not take long to return to the room.  Luvois stood.  “After reviewing all the evidence, and listening to all the testimony given in this courtroom, this panel finds Admiral Vince Garrett guilty of all charges.  Admiral, we sentence you to life in prison, to be served in the maximum security section of the New Zealand Penal Colony, effective immediately.”

Exclamations and cheers were heard throughout the room.  “I knew it!” Janeway heard Harry say to Tom.  Behind her, she knew that people were hugging and laughing.  She looked across the room and locked eyes with Garrett.  Instead of seeing defeat in his gaze, she saw something else.  His glance seemed to be filled with mocking laughter.


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

  **XI.**

* * *

  
Kathryn Janeway stood on the dock overlooking Lake George.  The water lapped against the shore in gentle ripples.  A soft breeze floated over the bay, providing relief from the hot sun.  Somewhere high up above, a bird called from a tree.  Across the water, a large boat left a trail of white wake behind it as it crossed the horizon.  

Kathryn took a deep breath.  The air at Lake George smelled sweet and fresh, so different from San Francisco, or the sterile environment of a starship.  She let herself enjoy the moment of peace and quiet and thought back to the last moment she had stood on this dock.  _I guess I am alone, after all._   The thought reverberated through her with the heaviness of truth.  After everything, she was right back where she had started, standing on the dock at Lake George overlooking the water.  Alone.  The thought was still tinged with melancholy, but she was starting to accept it.  

Garrett’s conviction a few days earlier had been a triumph.  He was awaiting transfer to New Zealand, where he would serve out his life sentence.  Until then, he was being held under maximum security at Starfleet Headquarters.  Dr. Zupanich had plead guilty to assault and treason to the Federation, and had been sentenced to twenty-five years to life, but with the possibility of parole should he be willing to undergo counseling.  She understood from the EMH that Torstin had already scheduled his first counseling session.  Many of the other crew members from the space station had received minor sentences or had been dishonorably discharged from Starfleet.  Commander Teral remained in a Federation prison, apparently abandoned by the Romulan government.  She still refused to speak to anyone from Starfleet, even when confronted about Garrett’s testimony regarding her desire to defect from the Romulan Empire.  The space station itself awaited dismantlement by the Advanced Technologies Division.

Kathryn and the rest of the participants in the trial had been released from their quarantine.  She’d had to fight off several reporters which had prompted her to escape to the lake.  Chakotay had recovered and, it seemed, would suffer no long-term ill effects as the result of his assimilation.  Everything had been restored to the way it should be.  So why didn’t she feel triumphant?  Why didn’t she feel secure?  The look in Garrett’s eyes from across the courtroom haunted her.  He should have been dejected, defeated, but instead he had seemed confident and mocking.  

Further, she had expected some covert communication from Captain Braxton — anything that said, ‘Well done, Janeway,’ or, ‘You accomplished your mission.’  But there had been nothing.  She knew that there were many possible explanations for Braxton’s silence.  He could have felt contacting her again was too risky, or he might have been discovered by his superiors.  She tried to tell herself that this must be the case.

She'd gone for a run that afternoon and was still dripping in sweat as she stood on the dock.  She went to the sauna and changed into her bathing suit, deciding that a plunge into the refreshing waters of the lake would do her good.  As she felt the soft lake water envelop her, she smiled.

Lake George had been a constant in her life since she had been a baby.  She’d come to visit her grandparents here every summer, and even after they’d passed away, she had continued to make annual trips.  The place was her sanctuary, unchanging, filled with natural beauty, quiet and peaceful compared to the bustle of San Francisco and Starfleet Headquarters.  It had always been a place where she could recharge and reflect.

Reflection was something she sorely needed now.  Now that Garrett had been convicted, Starfleet was reviewing _Voyager_ ’s status and trying to decide what to do with her Borg components and technology from the future, as well as elements gleaned from various alien races that they had met along the way.  The starship’s fate was still undecided, as was Janeway’s.

She still had almost three weeks of leave remaining, which she had decided to spend at Lake George.  But she was unsure about what she would do after that.  In the end, Starfleet had done the right thing where Garrett was concerned, but their reluctance to do so initially left her wondering whether it was the same organization she’d vowed to serve all those years ago.  Would her time be better spent elsewhere?  But if so, where?  What would she do, if she wasn’t a captain?  She didn’t know.

Everything about their return to Earth had turned out so differently from what she had hoped.  And while Garrett’s conviction and Chakotay’s recovery had eased her burden, she still felt a sense of uncertainty about her own future and the path she should follow.

She missed Chakotay’s friendship and counsel.  He had asked her, again, after the trial, if they could spend some time together.  She had told him politely that she would be at Lake George for the remainder of her leave, and that he and Seven were more than welcome to visit any time.  She sensed that he had wanted more from her, but she didn’t know what else she could say to him, not while keeping the distance that she needed to maintain in order to respect his relationship with Seven.  

As she swam in and out from the shore, the picture came to her mind, unbidden, of what it would be like to have him there with her.  _He would love it here_ , she thought.  She imagined him swimming beside her and then diving under the water to grab her and tickle her, or pull her under.  She thought they could lie together on the dock afterwards, soaking up the sun as it dried the droplets of water from their bodies.  She imagined him propping himself up on one elbow to run his hand over her body…

_Stop!_ she told herself.  These fantasies were pointless.  None of these things would ever happen.  Chakotay was with Seven now, and as far as she could tell, they were happy together.  Her life would have to proceed along a different course, one that included Chakotay as her friend, but nothing more.  _Maybe someday, there will be someone else_ , she told herself.  _But right now, it’s time to move on.  It’s time to live my life here in the Alpha Quadrant._  


* * *

    
“That was delicious, Seven,” Chakotay said as he wiped his mouth and put his napkin on top of his empty plate.  “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.  Why don’t you rest while I clean up?”

“I should clean up.  You cooked.”

“You are still recovering.  I can see that you are tired.  Please.”  She gestured to one of the comfortable chairs in his temporary quarters.

“All right.”  As soon as he stood from his chair, he realized that Seven was right.  He was exhausted.  He was still trying to puzzle out everything that had occurred since the night he and Seven had been abducted from her bedroom.  His own mind had been out of his control for weeks, and his memories of that time were fuzzy.  He remembered watching his own hand repair a conduit, as if it were not his hand.  He remembered firing a phaser at men and women in Starfleet uniforms; he had learned from Seven that this had been part of one of Garrett’s holodeck battle simulations.  He could only feel relief that Garrett’s experiment had been stopped when it had, and that he had not committed any truly heinous act while under Garrett’s influence.  He shuddered.  Control of his mind had been taken away from him too many times for his liking.

And then there were the memories.  His own memories seemed to be intact, but it also seemed he could remember some moments from Kathryn’s point of view.  This was something he had wanted to ask her about, but there had never been time to speak with her alone, and every time he had tried, she had brushed him off, or they had been interrupted by Seven.  Was it possible that the thoughts in his mind that seemed to belong to her were hallucinations?  Wishful thinking?  Perhaps even memories placed there by Garrett in attempts at further manipulation?  Chakotay sighed, the thoughts whirling round in his mind only making him feel more tired.  He ordered a cup of herbal tea from the replicator and had only taken a few sips before he set it down and let his eyes slip closed.

From the kitchen, Seven watched Chakotay’s eyes close.  She was not surprised that he had fallen asleep so quickly.  Although he tried to pretend that he was feeling as strong as he had before their ordeal, she could tell that he was still recovering.  

Ever since he had awoken in the _Enterprise_ ’s sickbay, things had not been the same between her and Chakotay.  It had taken Seven several days to realize that this was not just due to the fact that Chakotay had been injured.  Outwardly, his behavior had not changed.  He was solicitous and generous.  Since Garrett’s trial had ended, they had spent much of their free time together.  But Seven felt a growing distance between them.

She’d heard Tom use an expression once, “the elephant in the room.”  She thought perhaps she was beginning to understand that phrase.  There were things she had seen and experienced when she had been linked to Chakotay, memories, images and feelings that she did not understand.  She wanted to ask him about them, but she’d been afraid to, fearing that he would think she had invaded his privacy.

In his chair, Chakotay twitched, moaning in his sleep.  He was dreaming, she realized.  She put down the dish towel that had been in her hand and approached his chair slowly.  If he was having a nightmare, surely she should wake him.  “No,” he murmured.  “No, Kathryn…”  Somehow, hearing the captain’s name on his lips did not surprise her.

“Chakotay,” she said, gently shaking his shoulder, “Chakotay, wake up.”

“Huh?  Kath…”  Chakotay jolted awake, his eyes taking a minute to focus on the woman in front of him.  “Seven.”

“You were having a nightmare.”

He looked around, realizing he was still sitting in the chair.  “I’m sorry.  I must have dozed off.”

“The last few weeks have taken a toll on you,” she replied.  “Remain there.  I will get you a fresh cup of tea.”  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chakotay bury his head in his hands as she went to the replicator and ordered two cups of herbal tea.

“Thank you,” he said as she handed him one steaming hot mug and sat down in the chair across from him.

“What were you dreaming?”

“I, uh…  I don’t remember.”

“You seemed distraught.”

“That’s not surprising, I guess.  I’ve been feeling pretty confused lately, to tell you the truth.”

“What do you feel confused about?” Seven asked, feeling like this just might be the way into a conversation about the ‘elephant in the room.’

“My memories from the past few weeks, they’re all jumbled up.  I’m having a hard time sorting out what’s real and what’s not.”

“Perhaps I can help.  I have a great deal of experience with assimilation.”

Chakotay examined her face for any sign of sarcasm or torment at the idea, but he could detect only an honest desire to help.  “Did Garrett alter my memory in any way?”

“No.  In fact, at least some part of your memories remained intact throughout your assimilation.  Garrett wasn’t able to erase them completely.”

“So he couldn’t have used a false memory to try and manipulate me somehow?”

“No, I think I would have been aware if he had attempted that.  The captain and I both tried to reach you through your memories, though.”

“You did?”  Now he saw Seven’s face flush, and she looked away from him.

“It was the only way to reach you,” she said softly.  “I was afraid that Admiral Garrett would erase your individuality completely.  It was only by appealing to your deeply held memories that we could reach you.”  She paused.  “I apologize for violating your privacy.”

“What did you see?”

“Memories of your life.  A woman calling you inside for dinner.”

“My mother,” he supplied.

“You, arguing with someone about going to Starfleet Academy.”

“My father.”

“You were angry.  In the Maquis.  You were killing people.  Lieutenant Torres was there.”

“Yes.  I was very angry back then.”

“Your arrival on _Voyager_.”

He could tell she was withholding something by the way she refused to look at him and the pink color of her cheeks.  “And?”

“Perhaps this is not an appropriate time to have this conversation.”

“Why not?  I’ve been thinking about it for days.  I need to understand what happened.”  He placed his hand over hers gently.  “What else did you see, Seven?  It’s okay to tell me.  I promise I won’t be upset.”

“You were… carving a large piece of stone in the clearing of a forest.  It was for a bathtub.”

“And?”

“You were holding the captain’s hand across a table.  The captain was crying, and you wanted to comfort her.”  Seven paused.  “I was trying to reach you, Chakotay.  You weren’t responding.  I had to go deeper.”

“What else did you see?”

“The captain was dying.  You were crying.  You were afraid, shouting at her not to die.  Then, you were with the captain on the deck of a boat, drinking champagne.  You were holding her hand.  You never wanted that moment to end.”

Chakotay took a deep breath, his hands on his knees.  He looked straight ahead.  “Those things all happened, Seven.  A long time ago.”

“You told Captain Janeway you thought she should throw me out of an airlock.”

He looked at her now.  “That was before I knew you.”

“You wanted me to be her.”  Seven’s tone was not accusatory; she was simply stating a fact.

“What?  When?”

“When I was trying to reach you, when the nanoprobes were rewriting your neural pathways, you called out for the captain.”

“The captain and I are old friends.  We’ve known each other a long time…”

Seven shook her head, a slow, gentle movement, and smiled softly.  The situation was becoming more clear to her now.  “You have feelings for me, Chakotay, as I have feelings for you.  But these are feelings of friendship, affection, perhaps, attraction, maybe, on some level.  But your feelings for Captain Janeway…”  Seven trailed off, her eyes becoming far away.  “You never wanted that moment to end.  Never.”  She looked back at him.  “I hope that one day, I can experience such deep feelings for someone.”

“I’m sure you will, Seven.  Just give it time.”

“Perhaps.  But not for you.  Not now that I know the way you feel for the captain.”

“That was a long time ago, Seven.  Things have changed.”

“Have they?”

He let out another long sigh.  “Even if I still had… have… feelings for Kathryn, she doesn’t reciprocate them.  She’s made that clear.”

Seven crossed her arms over her chest and sat back against the couch.  “Perhaps I need to return to the Doctor and ask him for further lessons on human behavior.  You and the captain both perplex me.”

“What do you mean, Seven?  Did she say something to you?  Did you experience something through the neural link?”

Seven smiled an enigmatic smile.  “You said that things have changed, Chakotay.  Have they really?  Just ask yourself that.  And maybe you should ask the captain, too.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me.  I’ve been trying to have this conversation with Kathryn for days.  She always finds a way to avoid it.”

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Seven’s mind.  The conflicting emotions she had felt from the captain during their link suddenly made sense.  “The captain does not wish to interfere in your relationship with me.”

“What?”

“She has been avoiding speaking to you because she does not want to interfere in our happiness.”  She paused.  “The captain is always first to place the happiness of those she cares about above her own.”

“That’s true.”  Chakotay sat back in his chair and sipped his tea.  Could Seven be right?  Had he really misunderstood Kathryn’s reticence so completely?  It wouldn’t be the first time he had failed to understand a woman’s motivation.

“You should talk to her, Chakotay.”

“I’ve tried, but…”

“Our relationship will no longer stand in your way.”

“Seven… are you breaking up with me?” Chakotay asked, surprised to find that he wasn’t all that upset at the thought.

“I am merely… suggesting that we explore other options.”

“You’re a remarkable young woman, Seven,” Chakotay said, caressing her cheek in his palm and placing a kiss on her forehead.  “I think that someday you will get to have those feelings you talked about for someone.  And whoever he is, he’s going to be pretty lucky.”

Seven blushed.  “Thank you, Chakotay.  I am grateful to be counted among your friends.”

“Same.”

“And I wish you all the best with the captain.”  They stood.  She gave him a quick hug and turned to go, then whirled back to him.  “Think about it.”

Seven was gone, and Chakotay was, once again, alone.  But instead of answering his questions, Seven had left him even more confused than before.  


* * *

  
The lake was calm, the water still save for a myriad of small ripples that made the blue lake shimmer.  The sun, dipping low in the sky, cast a long ray of sparkling light across the water.  It was golden, but so bright that it almost appeared to be white.  The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the sound of a distant boat crossing the lake.  The trees on the opposite shoreline appeared as silhouettes against the brightness of the sun’s rays.

Kathryn Janeway sat on the edge of the dock, her feet dangling a few inches above the water.  Watching the Lake George sunset from the edge of the dock was a nightly tradition when she was at the lake, a tradition that went all the way back to her early teenage years.  Although the sun was dipping low in the sky, she could still feel its warmth on her face, and she smiled.  

The sound of a man’s voice interrupted the peaceful moment.  “Kathryn!  Kathryn?”

Her breath stopped in her throat.  She stood up from her perch on the edge of the dock and turned around to see Chakotay striding down the hill, past the Janeway family house and towards the lake shore.  “Chakotay?”

“There you are!” he exclaimed as he saw her on the edge of the dock.  

“This is a surprise,” she said as she walked to meet him on the grass where the dock met the land.

“You said there was an open invitation.  I hope I didn’t misunderstand.”

“No, not at all.  Of course you’re welcome.  Is Seven with you?”

“No.”  

“Why not?”

“I wanted to spend time with you, just the two of us.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

He tilted his face towards the setting sun and smiled.  “I’ve had plenty of time to rest.  It’s a beautiful evening, and I feel wonderful.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  It’s good to see you back to your old self.”  She paused, unsure what to make of his sudden appearance.  In spite of her best efforts to be unaffected by his presence and her resolve only the day before to move on with her life, she could not deny the joy that rose in her at the simple fact of him being there.  She tried to quash the feeling, knowing full well that it was misplaced.

He looked around, taking in the beautiful view before his eyes came to rest on her again.  His gaze moved from her loose hair down the lines of her sun dress, all the way to her toes and back up to her eyes.  It took him a moment to find his voice again.  “So this is the real Lake George.”

“Yes.”  She cleared her throat.  “I’m sorry.  I’m being a terrible hostess.  Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water, thanks.”

“I’ll just run up to the house and get it.  I’ll be right back.”

Chakotay nodded, and she hurried up to the house, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks.  _Damn it, Kathryn_ , she scolded herself.  _What happened to moving on?_   As she grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured some water, she wondered again what had brought him here so unexpectedly.  He didn’t seem agitated or upset.  Perhaps he was just being friendly.  He wanted to thank her for helping to save his life on the space station.  _Yes_ , she thought.  _That must be it._

She took the two glasses of water back down to the lake, where she found Chakotay sitting cross legged on the dock, looking out at the setting sun.  He patted the wooden dock beside him.  “Join me.”

She hesitated.  Sitting beside him watching the sunset seemed too intimate, somehow, for a friendly conversation between old colleagues.  Yet she also wanted nothing more than to be close to him, and he had offered.  She handed him a glass of water and sat down beside him.

There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun’s rays cast a golden glow across the entire horizon.  A pontoon boat drove by, only a few feet from the dock.  On the boat was an older couple, and they greeted Chakotay and Kathryn.  “Wonderful evening,” the woman said.

“Yes, it is,” Chakotay replied, waving.  

The boat went on its way, leaving a trail of ripples behind it.  Kathryn did not look at Chakotay.  She took in a deep breath of sweet smelling air and could not help the smile that crept onto her face.

He finally broke the silence.  “What are you grinning about?”

Her expression immediately sobered as she realized she had let herself get carried away.  “Nothing,” she answered quickly.  “Now, tell me what I can do for you today.”

“Hmm,” he murmured.  “What you can do for me?  I can think of a lot of things.”  

His tone was teasing, flirty, a tone he hadn’t used with her in years.  It made her heart ache.  “Be serious, Chakotay.  Why did you come to see me?”

“I just wanted to see you.  Am I not welcome here, Kathryn?”

She sighed.  “No, of course you’re welcome.  I just…  You made the whole trip from San Francisco.  I could have not even been here.  You must have had a reason.”

“I did,” he said slowly.  “I do.”

“Then what is it?  Do you need me to talk to Starfleet Command about your career?  Do you need help contacting a family member?”  She paused.  “Advice on a problem with Seven?”

Chakotay chuckled.  “I can’t come to see you if I don’t need something from you?”

Kathryn opened her mouth to retort and then paused.  “I’m sorry.  I guess I’ve gotten so used to everyone needing something from me that I assumed…”

“Tom Paris has a saying about assuming.”

“Which is?”

“If you ‘assume’ something, it just makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘you’ and ‘me,’” Chakotay deadpanned.

Mid-sip, Kathryn burst into laughter and choked on her water, the laugh turning into a spluttering cough.  Laughing too, Chakotay clapped her on the back.  “You okay there?” he asked.

Recovering her breath, still fighting against laughter, she managed to answer, “Yes.”  She took another sip.  “So that’s Tom’s saying?”

“One of his twentieth century things I imagine.  I heard it from Seven.”  Kathryn seemed to physically withdraw from him at the mention of Seven’s name, and her face, which had a moment earlier been alight with joy, fell.

“I see,” she said, her voice suddenly emotionless.

“Kathryn,” he said gently, “Seven and I are through.  We’re not together anymore.”

Kathryn turned slowly to look at Chakotay’s face, wondering if she had heard correctly.  It appeared that she had, because he was looking at her earnestly.  “Chakotay, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

_So that’s why he’s here_ , she thought.  _Seven broke up with him and he retreated to me, his friend, because he needed someone to talk to about it._

“What do you remember about our time in Garrett’s collective?” he asked her.

“What?”  Having expected him to continue to talk about his break-up, the question threw her off guard.

“Our link, through the hive mind, do you remember it?”

“I do.”

“That’s good.  Because I’m having trouble sorting through some of what I remember.  I was hoping you could help me.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Seven told me that my memory centers were the last to be affected.  She said that she tried to reach me through my memories when Garrett and Zupanich were rewriting my neural pathways.”  He paused.  “She said that you did, too.”

Kathryn nodded slowly.  “Seven explained how to do it.  I was afraid that you were already… gone.”

“I heard you telling me not to let go.  I knew that you were there.  You told me to hold on.”

“Yes.”

“And then I have these memories that I don’t understand.  I remember sitting next to you in your ready room when you told me about Mark’s letter.  I told you that we had plenty of time, and you… you wanted me to kiss you.  But you didn’t say that out loud.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, her heart pounding in her chest.

“And that night we went sailing on Lake George on the holodeck.”  He gestured at the real Lake George in front of them.  “The first time we were here together, we drank champagne and I held you in my arms, and you wanted… you wished it could be like that between us all of the time.”

“I never wanted that moment to end,” she said softly.

“And on New Earth, when I told you the angry warrior legend, you thought…”  He didn’t finish the sentence this time.  He didn’t want to speak the words for her.  He peered into her eyes.  “How can I remember these things, Kathryn?  Was I hallucinating?  Because those things never happened, and you never told me.”

“I shared those memories with you,” she replied quietly.  “I couldn’t reach you.  I kept calling out to you, but there was no response.  It was as though you were… as though you were already dead, erased, turned into a mindless drone.  I kept having to go deeper, into the most… the most intimate memories that we shared.  And then I shared my memories of those moments with you, hoping I could reach you.”  She paused.  “I guess it worked.”

“So those memories are real?”

She gave him a lopsided smile.  “That’s the way I remember it.”  He looked away from her, trying to absorb this information, and she cleared her throat awkwardly.  “I saw some things, too, Chakotay, memories of yours that I didn’t understand.”

“Oh?”  Now it was his turn to pull away, nervous about what she had seen.

“You were talking to me, but a younger version of me, and I don’t remember anything about it.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed.  “I can’t tell you.  Temporal Prime Directive.”

“The day you burned out the deflector dish,” she supplied.  “Well, I know some of it now.  And I know what happened after you left my quarters that night, how it was the moment you decided to… move on.  To let go.”  She lowered her eyes, focusing on a small spider as it crawled along the slats of the dock.

He spoke very quietly, “I never forgot.  I never turned away.  I only seemed to.”

Her eyes jerked to his face.  They were her own words, the words she had told him as she desperately tried to connect with him.  “But… but what about Seven?”

“Seven told me that she hopes someday she can experience true love.  With somebody else.”

“But you let go.  You decided to move on.  I heard your thoughts.”

“Then you also know how sad that idea made me feel.  Had we not gotten home, yes, I might have moved on.  I would’ve had no choice.  I knew we could never… explore our feelings out there, but now…”  He trailed off.  “Have you moved on?  Those feelings I experienced in your memories, are they only in the past now?”

She didn’t trust herself to answer him out loud, and her lip trembled as she shook her head, reaching for his hands.  The first touch of skin on skin, his big hands encompassing her small ones, was electric, as though a current surged through both of them.

“Kathryn,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

She could only nod, having lost the power of speech as his lips inched closer to hers.  And then she could feel the softness of his mouth, his lips moving over hers.  She ran her tongue over those soft lips until his mouth opened, and they tasted each other for the first time, tongues tangling and exploring.  He released her hands so he could embrace her, pulling her against him with one strong arm while the other hand cradled the back of her head.  Her arms wound their way around him, too, skimming over the hardness of the muscles under his shirt.

He broke the kiss and pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her body against his.  She clung to him as if for dear life and felt the tears welling up inside her.  She let out a sob against his shoulder, and he loosened his grip on her body so he could crush his lips to hers again.  There was nothing gentle about this second kiss.  It was primal, needy, hungry, and she moaned as his mouth plundered hers.

When he broke the kiss, they were both gasping for air, still clinging tightly to each other.  The sun had begun to dip below the trees across the lake.  “I never want this moment to end,” Kathryn whispered.  And for several moments, they didn’t move.  She savored the feeling of having his arms around her, the sound of his heart beating in his chest, the smell of him, the way it felt to be in his arms.

Finally, he pulled back, holding her at arm’s length.  “I don’t think I can make this moment last forever,” he said softly, “but I can give you many more like it.”

“Many?” she asked, grinning devilishly.  “How many?”

His expression became serious.  “A lifetime’s worth, if you want.”  The emotions that had been hovering just below the surface rose into her throat, and a tear rolled down her cheek.  He lifted one finger to wipe the tear away.  “All those years ago, when I told you that legend, and you cried like this, I wanted to do that, but I was too afraid.”

She leaned forward and kissed him.  “All those years ago when you told me that legend, that was the first time I realized that I loved you.”

He pulled her into his side, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.  She leaned her head against his chest, placing one hand over his heart.  “I love you, Kathryn Janeway,” he whispered in her ear.

She looked out at the golden sunlight still gleaming over the tops of the trees across the lake.  “Is this real?” she asked.  “Can this be happening?”

“Seems pretty real to me,” he answered, leaning down to nibble on her ear as he spoke.  “But if you need convincing, I’m sure I could figure out a way.”

She turned her face up to his.  “That sounds like a good idea.  Wouldn’t want to have any doubts.”

He stood suddenly, grabbing her hand and pulling her up with him.  She screeched in surprise as he lifted her in his arms.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him as he carried her up the bank towards the house.  When they reached the stairs leading up to the porch, he set her down.  She leaned forward and kissed him, long, slow and tantalizing, and then reached for his hand to lead him inside.


	13. XII

**XII.**

* * *

  
Kathryn smiled as the wind blew her hair back from her face.  Behind her, Chakotay’s expert hand steered the wheel of the boat as she relaxed, taking in the scenery and enjoying the ride.  After their confessions of love two nights before, Chakotay had moved out to Lake George for the remainder of their leave.  Kathryn laughed as she thought back on the past forty eight hours.  They had quite possibly been the best two days of her life. 

That first night, she had led Chakotay into the house, and he had undressed her before they reached the bedroom.  They made love, fell asleep, and then awoke in the middle of the night and made love again.  When the morning sun had finally shone through the blinds, she’d awoken to his naked body pressed against hers, and their desires, long ignored, had needed to be sated once more.  She’d since lost track of the number of kisses and caresses they’d shared in only two days’ time.  They were insatiable, as if their long repressed desires, once allowed free reign, could not be contained again.

When they weren’t making love, they swam in the lake, went for long walks through the woods, or sat on the deck sipping wine and talking.  It seemed they would never run out of things to say to each other.  After seven years together in the Delta Quadrant, they had more to discuss now than ever before.  As the Lake George scenery whizzed past, Kathryn Janeway felt only gratitude and joy.

Behind Kathryn, Chakotay’s hands caressed the steering wheel of the Janeway family boat.  He grinned, watching Kathryn, her head thrown back, the wind blowing her hair behind her.  She sat, reclined, on the bow of the boat, one leg extended in front of her, the other curled beneath her.  When she turned to look at him, the expression on her face was one of pure ecstasy, and Chakotay delighted in it.

He had thought he had known, before, every expression possible on Kathryn Janeway’s face, but he had learned over the past two days that her face could express more variations of joy, passion, and ecstasy than he had ever imagined possible before.  He was thoroughly enjoying learning all of these variations and figuring out how to recreate each of them.  The image before him now, of her total relaxation and abandonment, was another new one to add to the list.  She turned again and smiled at him.  He thought his life had never been more complete.  _Who knew_ , he thought, _that at my age one could still be in love like this?_

He slowed the boat as they approached the Janeway family home, and he piloted the vehicle into the boathouse with only a  little coaching from Kathryn.  After making sure the boat was secure, he jumped down and extended his arms to help her down, too.  She hopped down from the boat and into his arms, and he pulled her in for a long kiss.

“Good work, Commander,” she teased.  “Your piloting skills have obviously improved.”

Chakotay rolled his eyes.  “No more cracks about my piloting skills if you still want me to make that dinner we talked about.”

She placed her fingers over her mouth.  “My lips are sealed.”

They laughed all the way up the hill to the house, holding hands and stopping every few steps to kiss like teenagers.  As they stood just outside the screened porch, on the threshold of the house, Kathryn stopped, pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.  “You’re wonderful,” she said.

“You’re wonderful,” he replied, pulling her body against his and kissing her again, even more deeply, his tongue plundering her mouth.

When she broke away, gasping for air, she was laughing.  “And you’re insatiable!”

His hand caressed her buttocks and pulled her against him.  She could feel his hardness, and he could feel the heat of her through their clothes.  “So are you,” he growled.  He reached around behind her to open the door and pushed her inside, his mouth still on hers.  He maneuvered her through the screen porch and through the living room, until the backs of her knees landed against the couch and she collapsed onto the cushions.  Chakotay lowered himself on top of her, and his hand had just begun to undo the buttons of her sundress when they heard the beeping of the communications console.

Kathryn’s hand covered his and stilled it.  “We should check that,” she said reluctantly.

“I’m sure whoever it is can wait…”

She kissed his lips but kept her hand over his.  “We should check it.”

With a sigh, Chakotay placed his feet back on the floor and stood, offering her a hand to help her stand up.  She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him one more time before leading him into the office.  She wondered if it was a message from Braxton.  If so, she should probably look at it alone.  She checked the console.  It was a communication from Admiral Paris, asking her to contact him immediately.

“It sounds urgent,” she said to Chakotay as she placed the call.

A moment later, the Starfleet emblem was replaced on the screen by Owen Paris’ worried face.  “Kathryn,” he said.  “I’m so relieved that you called.”

“Chakotay is here, too.”

“That’s all right.  This is something the commander needs to know as well.”

“What happened, Admiral?  What’s wrong?”

“Commander Teral has escaped from prison.”

“What?  How?” Janeway asked.

“Starfleet Security is working on that now.  It appears to have been an inside job.  Someone within Starfleet helped her escape.”

“A traitor?” Chakotay asked.

“One of Garrett’s operatives,” Janeway replied, feeling a chill go down her spine.  “I always suspected he had operatives or colleagues in San Francisco.”

Admiral Paris nodded.  “There’s more.  Around the same time as Commander Teral’s escape, the shuttle carrying Garrett to New Zealand crashed over the Pacific Ocean.  The pilot and the three security guards were found dead.  Garrett’s body hasn’t been found.”

Janeway felt the chill spread to the rest of her body.  “You think he’s escaped?”

“From what we can tell from the shuttle logs, it’s highly unlikely anyone could have survived the crash.  But until we find his body, we have to consider the possibility that Garrett is at large.”

“His people helped Teral escape from prison, and then she rescued him from the shuttle,” Chakotay suggested.  

“Do you know what caused the shuttle crash?” Janeway asked.

“I have Tom, B’Elanna, Seven, and Harry looking into it right now,” Paris replied.  “They’re looking for evidence of a cloaked Romulan vessel, among other things.”

“How could a cloaked Romulan ship get past the planetary shield?” Chakotay asked.

“We don't know yet.  We don’t even know if that’s what caused the crash,” Paris replied.

“What about a search for Admiral Garrett?” Chakotay asked.  His hand found Kathryn’s shoulder, and she could sense his fear.  They both knew that if Garrett was indeed still alive, that she would be his first target.

“Already underway,” said Paris.

“Perhaps Dr. Zupanich knows something about his whereabouts,” Janeway said.

“We’ve already sent someone to speak to him,” Paris replied.

At that moment, the admiral was interrupted by an ensign who entered the office and rounded the admiral’s desk to whisper something in his ear.  Paris’ face went white as a sheet as the ensign spoke.  After the ensign had finished, Paris dismissed her and focused his attention once more on the screen in front of him.

“What is it?” Janeway asked.

“Dr. Zupanich was found dead in his cell.”

“Dead?  How?”

“An autopsy will need to be performed to determine the cause of death.  The doctor was alive and well when he was brought his breakfast this morning.”

Janeway exchanged a glance with Chakotay, knowing that his thoughts mirrored hers.  “We should place additional security around the cells of all Garrett’s personnel,” she said.  

“Already underway,” Paris replied.  “I’d feel better if you’d both come and stay at Starfleet Headquarters until this matter can be resolved.  Temporary quarters can be arranged for you.”

Janeway shook her head.  “Thank you, Admiral, but I’ve spent enough time in temporary quarters.  Besides, after what happened to Dr. Zupanich, I don’t think we’d be any safer at Starfleet Headquarters than we are here.”

Chakotay leaned forward towards the comm.  “What can we do, Admiral?” he asked.

Paris shook his head.  “Nothing, at the moment.  We have Starfleet Security crews already mobilizing.  It’s too dangerous for you to be involved.”  Paris was distracted by someone else entering his office.  “I have to go, Kathryn,” he said.  “I’ll update you when I have the chance.  Paris out.”

Chakotay’s hand tightened on Kathryn’s shoulder as the screen filled with the Starfleet emblem.  She reached up to cover his hand with her own as she turned to look into his eyes, a worried expression on her face.  
  


* * *

  
“This is interesting,” said Harry as he looked at the data from Admiral Garrett’s shuttle crash.

“What?” B’Elanna asked.  She, Tom, Harry, and Seven were in a secure lab at Starfleet Headquarters, poring over the data for clues as to what had happened to Admiral Garrett.

“Tetryon particles.”

“Just like the cloaked space station,” Tom supplied.

B’Elanna keyed in several codes on her work station and grimaced.  “Just as we suspected,” she said.  

Tom peered over her shoulder.  “Cloaking technology.  The same technology that Garrett used on his station.”

“Now we have proof that Garrett’s escape was engineered by someone affiliated with him.  No one else had access to that technology,” said Harry.

“Unfortunately, that brings us no closer to knowing where Garrett is now,” said Tom.

“I’m going to see if the tetryon particles left any residual traces that we can track,” said B’Elanna.

“I have discovered some other disturbing information about Admiral Garrett,” Seven said, looking over her shoulder at her three companions.

“What did you find?” Tom asked, moving from B’Elanna’s station to Seven’s.

“When the captain initially looked into Admiral Garrett’s background, she discovered that records of his activities during the Dominion War were missing from his Starfleet record.  I have been attempting to piece together more information about Garrett’s past, in hopes that it would provide some clue as to where he might hide or who he might seek out.  While I have been unable to find any further record of his assignments during the war, I did discover several encrypted transmissions dating between Stardate 50892 and Stardate 52086.3.  The communications themselves are not recoverable, but I have been able to trace the source.  The transmission logs show several communications between Admiral Garrett and a man named Luther Sloan.”

B’Elanna shook her head.  “The name doesn’t sound familiar to me.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to,” replied Seven.  “In most official Starfleet records, there is no Luther Sloan.  However, he is mentioned multiple times in the logs of the space station Deep Space Nine, where he attempted several times to recruit a doctor named Julian Bashir.”

“Recruit for what?” Harry asked.

“Have you heard of a covert Starfleet agency called Section 31?” Seven asked.

“Section 31 is a myth,” Harry said.  “Isn’t it?”

Seven shook her head.  “The Borg assimilated several Section 31 operatives.  I can assure you, it is very real.”

“Where is this Sloan now?” asked Tom, his fingers already reaching for the nearest console.

“Sloan is dead,” Seven replied.  “He was killed three years ago.”

“So we’re still no closer to finding Garrett,” B’Elanna said, frustrated.

“No,” Seven agreed, “but it would appear that Garrett, like Sloan, is a member of Section 31.  If this is the case, it would explain how he got access to a Starfleet space station, advanced cloaking technology and Starfleet personnel.  It would also explain how he was able to break Commander Teral out of prison without a trace of evidence left behind.  Section 31 is dangerous and powerful.”

Tom and B’Elanna exchanged a long glance.  “We should warn the captain,” he said, “and then get back to work.”  
  


* * *

  
Janeway and Chakotay materialized on the transporter pad at Starfleet Headquarters.  It had been a week since Tom and B’Elanna had called them with the news that the cloaking technology from the station had been used to facilitate Garrett’s escape, and Seven’s discovery that Garrett was most likely an agent of Section 31.  In spite of their efforts to the contrary, they had been excluded from the search for Garrett.  Starfleet Command claimed it was too dangerous for Janeway to be involved as she was likely Garrett’s next target.  Her protests to the contrary had fallen on deaf ears.  Until today.  She and Chakotay had been summoned to an urgent meeting with Admiral Paris.

The ensign manning the transporter room greeted them.  “Captain, Commander.  Admiral Paris is waiting for you in Conference Room 1.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” she said.  Chakotay offered his hand to help her down from the transporter pad, and she took it.  She felt his grip slacken after she had stepped down, but she did not release his hand as they exited the transporter room.

Chakotay looked at her, obviously surprised by her public display of affection.  

“From now on,” she said softly, “we’re in this together, Chakotay.”

He nodded, saying nothing, and tightened his fingers around hers.  He didn’t release his grip until the conference room doors swished open before them.  Admiral Paris was already present, along with Admiral Henry of Starfleet Security, Admiral Ross, and Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, and Seven.

“Captain, Commander,” Admiral Paris greeted them.  Janeway saw his eyes flick to their hands, which had been entwined only moments before, but he did not remark on the subject.  “Please, sit down.”

Janeway and Chakotay sat down at the round conference table.  The air in the room was tense, and she felt Chakotay’s hand cover her knee under the table.

“I’ve asked you all here today to inform you of Starfleet’s decision regarding the investigation into Admiral Garrett’s death,” said Paris.

“Death?” Janeway asked.  “Has a body been discovered?”

“No,” said Admiral Ross, “but after reviewing the data from the crash, we have determined that the chances anyone survived are negligible.”

“What about the tetryon particles?” B’Elanna asked.  “It’s very possible that there was another ship in the region using the same cloaking technology that Admiral Garrett used to disguise his space station.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Lieutenant,” said Ross, “but you and your team have been unable to substantiate those claims after a week of constant work.  You’ve found no solid evidence of a ship, nor have you been able to suggest where one might have gone.”

“If your data was more complete and you’d allow us to go to the crash site and investigate,” B’Elanna began.

Admiral Paris cut her off with a hand.  “Lieutenant, please.”

“Starfleet Security has already performed a thorough investigation of the crash site,” said Admiral Henry.  “I can assure you there’s nothing further you could deduce from going there yourself.”

“Captain,” B’Elanna pleaded, turning to Janeway, “surely you can’t allow them to…”

“This is not Captain Janeway’s decision, Lieutenant,” said Ross sternly.  “This is a decision made by Starfleet Command.”

“Just what is the decision, Admiral?” asked Chakotay.

“Admiral Vince Garrett has been declared dead,” said Ross.  “The search for him has been officially called off.”

“After only a week?” Janeway asked.  “Doesn’t that seem a bit premature?”

“The Dominion War has left Starfleet somewhat compromised, Captain,” Ross admitted, “both in terms of ships and personnel.  We hardly have spare captains or spare vessels to go galavanting off on a wild goose chase.”

“I would be happy to volunteer for the task, Admiral,” she replied.

“I’m afraid it’s a moot point, Kathryn,” said Paris.  “Starfleet Command has made its decision.”

“What about Seven’s findings that Admiral Garrett is most likely a Section 31 operative?” Chakotay asked.

The three admirals glanced at each other.  “Starfleet command claims the organization is a myth,” said Admiral Paris, “a conspiracy theory.”

“Then how do they explain Commander Teral’s escape, or the crash that supposedly killed Garrett?” 

“We believe that it’s some kind of Romulan plot,” said Admiral Henry, “executed by Commander Teral and other Romulan associates of hers.  There’s been a great deal of intelligence chatter coming from Romulus in recent weeks.  Starfleet Intelligence isn’t sure what to make of it yet, but something is brewing there.”

“What about the space station?” asked Janeway.  “It was a Starfleet station.  Admiral Garrett was clearly in command.  It was staffed with Starfleet officers.  You have evidence of what Garrett was doing there!  Surely there must be logs and records of what was done and who was in charge.”

The three admirals exchanged another glance.

“What?” Janeway asked, her eyes moving from Henry to Ross to Paris.

“There was a malfunction at the space station.  The primary reactor overloaded,” said Ross.  “The entire station was destroyed.”

“I suppose you’re going to suggest that this was a Romulan plot, too?” B’Elanna said sarcastically.  From the seat next to her, Tom gave her a warning look.

“There’s nothing to suggest that it was anything other than a random malfunction,” said Ross.  “I allowed Seven of Nine to look at the data.  She can confirm what I am saying.”

All eyes turned to Seven.  “I did examine the data from the explosion, Captain,” she said to Janeway.  “I did not see any immediate evidence of foul play.”

Janeway was able to read through the lines of Seven’s statement.  No immediate evidence meant that she had not been permitted to examine the data thoroughly.  

“Because of your involvement in Garrett’s capture and trial, we wanted to inform you of Starfleet’s decision in person,” said Admiral Ross.  “If there are no further questions, this meeting is dismissed.”  Ross looked around the table, and, seeing no one else volunteer to speak, he and Admiral Henry stood to leave.  Everyone else around the table stood when the admirals did.  Admiral Paris lingered behind as the other two admirals left the conference room.

“Dad, surely you can’t believe what they’re saying!” Tom exploded as soon as they were alone.

“Believe me, son, I have my doubts,” said Admiral Paris, “but Starfleet has made its decision.  I protested.  I tried to get them to continue the investigation.  I already pointed out everything that all of you said today, but Starfleet Command doesn’t want to hear it.”

“Do you think it’s because someone from Section 31 has engineered this whole plot?” Chakotay asked.  “And now they’re covering their tracks?”

“It’s very possible,” Paris admitted.  “But unfortunately, Section 31 is accountable to no one.  They operate under the radar.  Even if they are behind this, it’s highly unlikely we’d ever be able to trace that back to its origins.  It’s also possible that Admiral Garrett is the head of this operation, and that he’s disappeared and destroyed all the evidence.”

“So he can continue his project somewhere else,” Janeway finished.

“Also possible,” said Paris.

“Or, it could be that Garrett has disappeared so that he can come back and take revenge on Kathryn,” Chakotay said, his hand coming up to rest on the small of Kathryn’s back.

“Yes,” Admiral Paris agreed, noting Chakotay’s protective gesture.  “You’ll all have to be very careful.  Kathryn is the most obvious target, but Garrett could be out to destroy each and every one of you.”

“What kind of protection or help can Starfleet offer?” Harry asked.  He waited for a moment of silence before answering his own question.  “Nothing.”  He shared a glance with Tom and shook his head.  “Sometimes I think we were safer in the Delta Quadrant.”

“I’m sorry, son,” Admiral Paris said to Harry.  “I’ve done everything I could.  Honestly, I have.”

“We understand that, Dad,” Tom said, trying to be sympathetic to his father’s position.

“It is possible,” said Seven, “that Admiral Garrett is indeed dead.”  She paused.  “Possible, but unlikely.  I recommend we all take extreme precautions.”

“I agree,” said B’Elanna.  “I could add some additional security measures to all of our quarters.”

“What about Kathryn’s house at Lake George?” Chakotay asked.

“We can do the same thing there,” said B’Elanna.  

Everyone looked at Janeway.  She nodded.  “Let’s do it.”  
  


* * *

  
It was a perfect late summer evening at Lake George.  The sun was starting to dip low in the sky, but it was still warm enough to swim in the lake or lounge on the dock.  The water was calm and still, and birdsong stretched across the water as it rippled gently.  Kathryn and Chakotay sat at the picnic table by the water with their former senior staff.

“More wine, Harry?” Kathryn offered.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Kim extended his glass, and she poured from the chilled bottle of rose.  “You know,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “we’re not in a command structure anymore.  We’ll all be reassigned soon.  Perhaps when we’re off duty, it’s time you all started calling me Kathryn.”

Beside her, Chakotay smiled, resting his hand on her knee.  Harry’s eyes widened, and Tom grinned.  The Doctor stood from his perch under a large tree and raised his glass.  “I think that’s an excellent idea, Kathryn,” he said.

“Let’s drink to it,” suggested Tom.

“You’ll drink to anything,” B’Elanna teased him.

“In all seriousness,” said Janeway, “I would like to propose a toast.  To all of you.  To family.”  As everyone clinked glasses, Janeway remembered just a few months earlier, when she’d been making the same toast but for very different reasons.  Seven and Chakotay had disappeared, and she had feared them dead.  Now they were both here at her side.  Chakotay, seeming to know her thoughts, tightened his grip on her thigh.

A moment of silence followed as everyone sipped their wine, each lost in their own thoughts of the past few months.

B’Elanna broke the silence.  “Do you really think it’s possible that Admiral Garrett is dead?”

“It’s been three weeks since Starfleet called off the search and there’s been no sign of him,” said Tuvok.

“But he could just be laying low,” said Harry.

“Maybe he just couldn’t fathom the idea of going head to head with Captain Janeway again,” Tom said, and everyone laughed.

For one month, there had been no sign of Garrett.  It appeared that he was indeed gone for good, and Janeway and Chakotay had decided to invite _Voyager_ ’s former senior staff for a party at Lake George to celebrate.  They had spent the evening swimming and picnicking down by the lake, laughing, talking, and enjoying each other’s company.  Even Tuvok appeared to be having a good time.

As Tom rallied Harry, B’Elanna and Seven for another game of lake hoverball, Kathryn snuggled into Chakotay’s arms.  She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the beat of his heart as she watched their “family” enjoying the lake.  Tuvok approached them.  “May I offer my congratulations, Kathryn,” he said.

“Thank you, Tuvok.  But you had an equal part in bringing down Garrett.”

“I was referring to your newly formed bond with the commander.”

She blushed.  “Oh.  Well, thank you, my old friend.”  She looked up at Chakotay.  “We’re very happy.”

“I am gratified to see you so well,” Tuvok said.  “Congratulations to both of you.”

“Thank you, Tuvok,” said Chakotay, tightening his arms around Kathryn.  “We’re so glad you could join us for the party tonight.”

The Doctor approached the couple.  “Tuvok may not have the most eloquent way of saying it, but it is nice to see both of you so happy.  What are your plans, moving forward?”

Kathryn pulled away so that she could fully face the Doctor, with one arm still around Chakotay.  “We have another few weeks of leave left.  We’re still waiting for reassignment to find out what’s next.”

“And on a more personal level,” Chakotay added, “I think we’ll be looking for a house.”

“That’s wonderful!” the Doctor exclaimed.  “You know if you should need any advice about conception or child-rearing, I have a great deal of experience with…”

He trailed off upon seeing Janeway’s glare.  “It’s just a house, Doctor.  For the two of us.”

“Of course, I understand,” the Doctor replied hastily.  “I just thought…”  He stopped, realizing that sometimes silence was the best option, and quickly changed the subject.  “Did I tell you I’ve been temporarily reassigned to Starfleet Medical?”

“You didn’t,” Janeway replied.  “Congratulations, Doctor.  That’s great news.”

“Thank you,” the EMH replied.

“I guess we’ll all be getting our reassignments soon,” Chakotay said.

A peal of raucous laughter made them all look over at the water, where it appeared that Harry and Seven had beaten Tom and B’Elanna.  The four clambered out of the water and grabbed their towels.  The sun was starting to set, and the evening was cooling down.  Kathryn excused herself from their conversation with the Doctor and started to clean up the picnic things.  

She was standing inside at the sink, washing dishes, when she felt a warm presence by her side.  “I guess you didn’t have to give up hope, after all,” B’Elanna said, wrapping her arm around Janeway’s shoulders.  She had changed out of her bathing suit and into comfortable clothes.

Kathryn smiled, thinking back to the conversation she and B’Elanna had shared on the Enterprise.  “No one has been more surprised than I am, B’Elanna.”

“Except maybe Chakotay,” Torres replied with an even wider grin.

Kathryn laughed.  “Yes, maybe.”  She put down the dish she was washing and took B’Elanna’s hands in hers.  “Thank you, for everything you said to me that day.  Thank you for being there for me.”

“That’s what family is for,” B’Elanna said, pulling Kathryn into a hug.  “I’m really happy for you, Kathryn, both you and Chakotay.”

“Thank you, B’Elanna.”

From the doorway to the kitchen, they heard a loud male voice clear his throat.  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Chakotay answered.

“Not at all,” said Janeway.

“Just girl talk,” B’Elanna teased her old friend.

“Far be it from me to intrude on girl talk,” Chakotay said.  “I just wanted to let you know that Seven and Harry are getting ready to leave.”

B’Elanna looked at the chronometer.  “We should go, too.  Miral is with Samantha and Naomi Wildman.  I don’t want to impose on too much of their time.”

“All right,” said Kathryn.  “Thanks so much for coming.  We’ll see you again soon.”

Hugs and well wishes went all around, and soon, everyone was gone.  Kathryn took Chakotay’s hand and silently led him down to the dock.  The sun was just beginning to dip into the lake, casting its golden glow on a strip of fluffy clouds that stretched across the horizon.  The sky was turning a deep orange, and the bottom of the cloud line seemed to be on fire.

Chakotay wrapped his arms around Kathryn from behind.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she murmured.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

She laughed.  “You do know how to charm a girl, Chakotay.”

He grew quiet, and his arms tightened around her as the sky around the sun became an even deeper orange-red and the sun slowly disappeared from view.

She turned her face to look up at him and saw his pensive expression.  “What?”

“What if Starfleet assigns me to be your first officer again?”

“What if…?”  She paused, realizing what he was asking, and tightened her hands over his strong arms that encircled her waist.  “It’s different now, Chakotay.  We’re in the Alpha Quadrant.”

He nibbled on her ear.  “You’d be willing to serve together in a command structure and be together?”

She looked out at the lake, where the strips of clouds were now lined with lavender and pink.  “People do it.  Look at Commander Riker and Counselor Troi.”

“People do do it,” he said softly, “but would you do it?”

She sighed.  “I’ve always thought that a captain has to maintain a certain distance from her crew.”

Chakotay’s arms fell from around her waist and he stepped away from her.  “I see.”

She turned around quickly.  “But maybe it’s time that I changed.”  She reached for his hands, grasping them and pulling him towards her.  “Whatever our reassignments, Chakotay, I want to make this work.  I told you, we’re together now.”  She let go of his hands and reached up to take his face between her palms.  She raised herself up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.  “I love you.”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, pressing his tongue into her mouth as if to claim her as his.  He pressed the length of his body against hers, and slid one hand down her back to her buttocks, pulling her closer.  She moaned softly as she felt him harden against her stomach.  He broke the kiss and looked deep into her eyes.  “I love you, Kathryn Janeway, and I am never, ever letting you go.”  

She squealed as he picked her up, cradling her in his arms and carrying her into the house.  They left a trail of clothes between the door and the bedroom, and after they had sated their passion, they finally fell into a deep sleep.

Neither of them noticed a small, seemingly inconsequential blip on B’Elanna’s enhanced security system.  There was no time for either of them to see or hear it before it disappeared, and everything appeared to be normal.


End file.
